Her voice was loud, but not entirely unpleasent. It rang through the bakery, bouncing off nerves in my spine.
There was still weak spots in my memories. Her voice triggered an electric shock through every single pore in my body.
I gripped the counter, gritting my teeth.

"Where's the girl on fire?"
Johanna dropped all of her bags at the door, walking to the window. She snatched a cupcake from the display, flipped the bakery sign to "closed" and pulled the curtain that severed it from my actual kitchen.
"And when can I take my pants off?" she added.
I shook my head, removing her frmo the counter.
"Never? And give that back!" I reached for the sweet, which she promptly shoved whole into her mouth. I sighed.
"Nevermind..."

She grinned, walking twards the livingroom, looking for Katniss. When she came up empty, she charged back over to me, grabbing my shirt by the collar.
"Okay, Blondie. Promise me she's not upstairs."

I blanched.
"W-what if she is?" She gave a very dramatic, very heavy, very Johanna sigh.
"You're stupid." she shook her head. She pointed up the stairs.
"Go. Now."

I had no choice, because, frankly, Johanna scared the hell out of me. So, up the stairs I went.
I found Katniss not asleep, but singing. Just out the window. Every little note made my heart leap, my stomach quaver.
"Beautiful," I remarked. I sat by her, running my nose along her face. She smiled, soft and close-mouthed.
Moments like that, I fell in love completely again. Everything seemed so perfect. Normal.
Scars of war blurred at the edges. I tucked a long, misplaced hair behind her ear, and scooped her up into my arms. I was careful on the stairs, each step earning her a kiss on the cheek.

"Ew." Johanna gace us a look of confusion and discust. I guess she just didn't understand kissing for romance. To her, years of kissing men and women of the Capitol with no emotion clouded over its niceness.
She'd created a tiny hospital of sorts on the sofa, which pulled out to a bed that wasn't as big as the Master bed, but was surprizing in size.
Everything was a mint green-from the sheets to pajamas, which Johanna took almost no time getting into.
The color was no surprize. Every time I painted Johanna, the color came up. Calm, cool, but with a bite.

When my wife was settled, I sat quietly in an arm chair, trying to figure out my next move. I felt the room vibrating, but it was just me, bouncing my good leg out of nerves. "And now..." Johanna got out a deck of cards, cutting, shuffling and dealing them to the three of us.
"We wait."