Epilogue

A lot can happen in nine months.

Like two babies.

Delly's and Thom's - a little girl named Alice.

And Delly and Peeta's - a new restaurant closer to the city centre.

Motherhood doesn't appear to have slowed down Delly's drive. She might not have returned to work straight after Alice was born, but she used the time to come up with 5, 10 and 15 year plans for expansion which, if she has her way, will result in a small chain of cafés and restaurants across the Capitol and neighbouring districts.

Rory with help is now running the original café, whilst Peeta, Delly and I have been busy setting up the new site. It's a larger, smarter restaurant based in the financial business district and accordingly the menu is more geared toward business lunches, with a large room upstairs that can be hired out for private functions and meetings. It was hard work for us all, overseeing the building refurbishment, recruiting a new team of staff, and - in particular for Peeta –creating a new menu. But it gave him the opportunity to move away from just soups, frittatas and sandwiches and show what he was really capable of. The new menu is based on a theme of rustic healthy home-style cooking but with Peeta's own delicious twist on old favourites.

We were only open for only a month when unknowingly we were visited by the food critic from the Capitol Times. He lauded Peeta as a 'talent to watch' and stated that we had secured a position in the top ten places to eat in the city.

I bought two copies of the paper that day. I cut one article out and - much to Peeta's embarrassment - had it framed and hung in the restaurant. The other one I posted to his parents. I didn't tell Peeta I did it, and I don't think he got any response from either of them, but I just wanted them to know about his achievement and how amazing their youngest son is.

We've barely had an empty table since the review appeared, which is fantastic, but it also means that Peeta and I have had very little spare time for anything else, including dating. Although he did get that second date and the third, the fourth, the fifth and so on.

This is the first weekend that Peeta has taken off since Christmas, and he's beyond nervous about leaving his 'baby' with Jackson his sous chef, but I think I successfully managed to take Peeta's mind off it last night and again this morning. Although right now, with the way he looks - carrying a heavy box with his shirt sleeves rolled up - it's me that's having a hard time trying to keep my mind on what it is that we're supposed to be doing.

"I can't believe that's everything," Peeta says, setting down the heavy box of books next to my rucksack and two other small boxes. "Are you sure there's nothing else? There's nothing at Hazelle's that you want to get?"

I shake my head, "No that's it. That's all I need." Honestly, it's the most I've owned for a long time. When I moved in with Jo I only had the rucksack.

"So that's it then?"

I nod, as Peeta steps back out into the hallway. "Katniss come out here a moment, will you?" he beckons.

I step outside the apartment and join him staring at the open front door. I'm not quite sure what it is I'm supposed to be looking. With an unexpected movement Peeta swoops me up into his arms.

"What are you doing?" I squeal.

"Carrying you over the threshold of course," he grins.

"That's what you do when you get married not move in together, you idiot," I scoff.

He just laughs and shrugs. "I don't care. I'll do it again after our honeymoon," he says, making my cheeks heat. Peeta says things like that a lot. He hasn't exactly asked me, he knows I'm not ready yet. But he drops comments about marriage and kids all the time, as if they're both a given. And I guess he's right. They are. Just not yet.

I swat at his shoulder though, as if I'm annoyed by his comment, but he just laughs again and ignores my demands to be put down. He kicks the front door shut behind him and carries me straight through to his bedroom. Which although, I'm only just officially moving in, has been my bedroom for months too.

Peeta drops us both to the bed. I don't waste any more time pretending to be annoyed with him, we haven't had this much time alone for months and I'm not sure when we'll have the opportunity for a weekend off again. It would be stupid to waste it.

I moan his name in repeated encouragement as he makes short work of stripping us both of our tops, quickly unsnaps the fastening at the back of my bra and frees me to his greedy mouth. His teeth drag over my nipple as I clutch at his hair. He feasts on me until he's had his fill and then he moves on to satisfy his new desire, kissing down over my stomach and ridding me of my leggings and underwear. The feeling of his tongue swiping over me, sucking and tasting my skin has me arching up to meet him, rocking my hips for greater gratification.

"Fuck Peeta…need you…oh fuck…I need you now."

He complies shoving down his jeans and underwear and slamming into me.

Somewhere at the back of my brain I register that the bedroom window is still open, that there's a good chance the people on the street below can hear us, and that I'm going to regret not closing it. But right in this second I couldn't give a fuck who hears because there is no way I'm stopping Peeta from doing what he's doing, and whilst he's doing what he's doing, I don't stand a chance of keeping quiet.

I shout his name sandwiched between two expletives, when he finally rides me over the edge. With ragged breath I watch him as he continues to move above me, his forehead furrowed as if he's in some exquisite pain.

"Say it, ungh… say it," he groans.

"I love you Peeta." It never fails, it pushes him over the edge every time. I love watching him come, gazing into my eyes with this look of beautiful, glorious ecstasy on his face.

"I love you," I murmur into his hair, as he collapses his weight on me, his forehead resting against the crook of my neck.

He turns to kiss me. "God you're beautiful," he breathes with a look of total wonder, like it's the very first time he's realised and he hasn't already told me the same thing 100 times before. It's the way he always looks at me just after sex. I hope he never stops looking at me like that.

"I love you," he says, before kissing me again, then rolling over on to his side taking me with him.

"How about when we're married I carry you over the threshold naked, then we wouldn't just be repeating the same thing as today," he grins in a way that I know means he's been thinking about it for a while and he thinks he's really funny.

"It would certainly be different for the neighbours," I say, rolling my eyes at him.

"Well they have heard it all before, so they might as well see it too," he teases.

My attempt to look unaffected is thwarted as I blush hotly, my gaze falling on the open window. "Do you really think they heard us?"

"Everyone," he nods with a proud smirk, "even that guy that lives in the basement who's always drunk whenever we see him. He must be jealous as hell right now."

"Peeta!"

"What? I've seen him looking at you. Anyway it's not the first time the window's been open," he dismisses.

"It's not?" I say, my voice rising in dismay.

Peeta shakes his head with amusement, "It was open most of the summer, you know that."

"No I don't! I always closed it before I got ready for bed."

"Yeah and I always reopened it a little it whilst you were in the bathroom, how can you not have noticed?"

"Shit! No wonder the guy from next door always smiles at me strangely."

"Katniss, I think the guy next door could hear you whether the window was open or not," Peeta laughs.

I cover my face with my hands. I never had to worry about this sort of stuff before. The benefit of brief encounters that only last a couple of weeks is that when they're over you move on and don't have to see them or their neighbours again. But I'm not going anywhere this time, I love Peeta and I really like this flat. I don't see us moving for a year or two, not until we have kids and need somewhere bigger with a garden.

"What?" Peeta asks, clearly seeing the shock on my face from where my train of thought just took me. "Shit I'm sorry, I really thought you knew about the window, I presumed you didn't care. I f..f..fish…I promise I'll tell you next time I open it. Look I was only joking about the guy next door …FUCK… he probably hasn't heard a thing."

"It's not that," I quickly reassure Peeta, as I note his increasing tics. "I was just thinking about gardens."

"Really?" he looks confused, until a moment later he grows a wickedly cheeky grin. "When we move into the house with the big back garden, the one we'll live in with our three kids, you will have to learn to be quiet. You'll need to be, or all the neighbours will hear us on those warm summer nights when we do it in the garden!" And then he ducks as I try to hit him with a pillow, only for him to knock the weapon from my hands, roll me over and trap me with his kisses. He pauses to ask with genuine sincerity, "Do you want me to close the window?" But I'm already too lost in the way his hands feel as they caress my breasts, and when his mouth latches on to my neck I definitely know I don't want him to stop to get up to close a bloody window or any other reason. Anyway it's not like the neighbours can actually see us, and I've never cared about being loud in the past before.

"No. Fuck it," I tell him. "Let them listen if they want to, I don't care. It's only words."

THE END

Sorry this took a million years to post but some times real life stuff like work, relationships and everything else generally turning to shit have to come first.

I hope there is someone still out there to read this last chapter - if so hope you enjoyed the story and thanks for coming along for the ride.