Chapter 11: Tension Bursts
The alarm clock barely has time to ring before it is shut off. It's enough to pull me out of sleep, though. I whine and snuggle closer to Peeta, trying in vain to prevent him from leaving. But I feel the bedsprings lower and then return into place with a snap, along with a sudden chill to my body, as he rises to go get ready for the day.
I am in the middle of my fourth month of pregnancy (by now, I am showing quite healthily and the whole of District 12 knows), and in the two and a half months Peeta has lived with me, I have become shameless in how close I want him, especially in my bed. No longer do I have qualms about using him as my personal teddy bear. He drives the nightmares away, so why disturb too much of a good thing?
I hear the water turn on as Peeta steps into the shower. I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes. I cannot fall back - I've done that sometimes only to wake up and find him gone. It is never good for me to miss what has now become our morning ritual.
Five minutes elapse and Peeta is out of the shower. I can hear the rustling of fabric as he dresses, the brief running of water from the tap as he brushes his teeth. When it comes to getting to work, he doesn't mess around. It's a good walk from my house to the bakery, and he has to be there at least half an hour prior to opening time. But he sets his alarm so he can stay with me as long as possible, while still having just enough time to get to work. The door creaks as he slips back into my - our - room.
"I'm out, sweetheart," he hisses to me, determined not to wake Mother or Prim. When he initially tried out this nickname on me, I bristled. The connotation seemed to imply something still so….. I can't describe it. But, I indulged Peeta because he has been so gentle and kind to me.
"Have a good day at work," I smile, leaning forward to peck his cheek goodbye, as I do every morning.
He turns his head at the last second. It is his lips, not his skin, that I touch with my own. I jolt, as if I have been given an electric shock, and it feels like I have. Sparks seem to fly from our mouths as we physically join in this way. It is true magic.
Of course, Peeta and I have shared half a dozen kisses like this, but they were all forced by one upon the other. This, by contrast, is our first mutually consented kiss. But even more exhilarating: this is the first kiss that makes me want another.
I am aroused. I can feel it in the way my breasts, already ballooned by my pregnancy, rise like the yeast Peeta handles all day, every day. I suddenly know that if Peeta saw my perky nipples through my nightshirt, I would die of shame. I feel my face grow hot, and I want to fan myself. So, to cover these thoughts and feelings and…. bodily responses, I do not pull away. "Hmmmmm…" I groan without guilt and grasp at his neck with my hands, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. My eyes flutter closed.
Minutes later, Peeta pulls out of the kiss. I know why, and do not feel offended; he's already running late.
"See you tonight," I gasp, breathless from the display of affection we have shared. "I…." But he does not hear me, nodding to me with a smile as he sprints out the door. I stop short and frown. What was it that I was about to say, but that died on my lips, the lips that Peeta just so passionately kissed and that I kissed him with in turn?
My fingers fly to my mouth and I feel the fading warmth of Peeta there, but I am also in shock, for I know what I had been about to say.
I love you.
All through the rest of that day, I ponder over what this all now means. Did I enjoy this new kind of kiss with Peeta? That is obvious. Of course I did! Then again, I hadn't exactly minded any of the others we shared behind the bakery, even if they were forcibly endowed. Another question pesters me, this one harder to answer: How did kissing Peeta compare to kissing Gale?
It's difficult to say. When Gale kissed me, no man had ever kissed me before in my life. I was awkward, unwieldy, in returning my affections. But with Peeta…. the kisses I gave him the night I pleasured him were more assertive, confident. And the one this morning….. I suppose my adeptness came from the experience I had already built with Peeta. So, really, comparing the sensation of kissing these two men is impossible. And I don't even want to try and compare either of them to the one god-awful kiss I shared with Cray! I'd be way over-thinking it then.
Only one query now remains: where do I go from here with the Boy with the Bread?
