Chapter 1: Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life

I smooth down the skirts of my blue Reaping dress, surreptitiously glancing from side to side as I stand here in the alley, on the back loading dock of the Merchant bakery. The sun has barely risen into the sky; I got an early start today on my hunt, well before first light. Despite the untimely hour, I still managed to bag a few squirrel. The haul left me pleased, especially considering I was working alone – Gale, my hunting partner, was probably up the same time I was, heading down into the mine shafts.

Knocking on the metal door, I stand back and wait. A few moments later, a head of ashy blonde hair which sparkles like homespun gold when it catches the sunlight pokes out.

"Katty!" Peeta's smile could light up the sun, and I feel my stomach squirm happily. The gooey sensation makes me scowl. I've never been able to reconcile how Peeta makes me feel, ever since he has taken over the trading from his father: flustered, happy, and several other things I would rather not mention out of pride.

"Morning," my face upturns into a soft smile, while I procure the squirrel from my game bag. Peeta takes it and holds it up to inspect it. I frown prissily, arms folded across my chest. He has always done this, though I mostly think it is just for show. Like he's teasing me or something.

"Up to your standards?" I quip.

Peeta just smirks. "Right in the eye, every time!"

I snort. "Have I ever given you less?"

He pretends to think about it. I swat for him, and miss, causing him to laugh. "Don't go away," he winks, before ducking back inside.

This rapport, this banter we have developed wasn't always easy. When Peeta first began conducting the back loading dock trades, I could barely look him in the eye, my cheeks all flushed, as I would toss the game meat at him while mumbling out my commensurate barter. Even with some improvement, I still consider myself a pretty anti-social person, but Peeta was patient. Perfunctory transactions with barely a "Hi, bye," gradually developed into meek comments about the weather. Meek comments about the weather then became asking about each other – Peeta will always ask about my little sister Prim. For the baker's youngest son, "Katniss" eventually became "Katty" or "Katty girl" after he allegedly heard Madge Undersee (probably the only person other than Gale I could consider a friend) call me that. Hearing Peeta say the pet name for me landed differently than when I've heard the Mayor's daughter say it – a strange giddiness overtakes me.

I straighten when Peeta reappears, carrying two loaves of bread.

"You… you look nice," he manages, gesturing to my blue dress. "Bit formal for hunting, perhaps, but…" I blink at him doefully and he flushes. "I… I just mean, it seems too nice a dress to risk getting dirty."

Now it is my turn to blush profusely. Eyes askance, I mumble, "Rest of my things were at the laundress."

"Oh," Peeta nods. "The, uh…. Hawthorne lady. The mom of your hunting partner, right?" I nod. An awkward beat follows. "Well, you still look nice."

My cheeks stain even further pink, and I fall into that nervous tic whenever I'm around him off running my fingers through my single braid. "Th-Thank you," I stutter.

The moment Peeta passes the bread into my arms, I frown.

"They're still warm," I accuse.

Peeta sighs in a put-upon fashion, because we've been down this road before. "Mom slept in; the chance to give you the good stuff was right there…"

I almost angrily throw the loaves into my game bag. I should throw them in the dirt, or back at him and demand the slightly staler fare his father always knew how to deal me, but I haven't the energy. I start to flounce away down the alley, but Peeta catches my arm.

"Katty girl…"

"Don't!" I snarl, yanking my arm back. "You know how I feel about charity, Peeta….!" I will never bow on three principles: I will never marry (Mother nearly died herself when we lost Daddy in that mining accident seven years back), I will never bear children, and I will never take charity. I put deep respect in my Seam heritage, and we always avoid owing others as much as possible, for when you owe something, you pay back what you are owed.

"It's not…." Peeta's voice starts to rise, but then he collects himself. "Katniss, I'm just trying to help you. And Prim. She needs the strength; she's a fourteen-year-old growing girl, for Snow's sake…."

The invocation of Prim is a low maneuver, and I huff, stamping my foot. "Oooooh…. Why do you do this?"

"Do what?" He looks genuinely perplexed. As if he doesn't know.

"Push my buttons! Drive me crazy! Why do you…. why do you affect me like this?!"

"Any more than you affect me? You've been doing that just fine for years! You… you have no idea, Katty, the affect that you have!"

I have zero clue what to say to that, so I bristle away from the comment as Peeta continues. "I don't understand. You're nice to me, almost flirty…" (I cock an eyebrow at his interesting choice of word, but say nothing. I don't flirt – at least I've never thought I do) "… the one minute. Cold the next. What in Panem's name am I supposed to do with that, Katty? Tell me! What?"

"You wanna know?" I growl, taking a step towards him. "You really want to know?"

"Yes! Yes, I wanna know! Why do we do this? Why do you….?"

"Because…." I splutter, then blast it. "Because I LOVE YOU! That's why!"

The moment the confession of my sin hits the air, I gasp and draw both hands to my mouth. Horrified, mortified, I feel the tears pool before they slip down to my cheeks. Peeta is gawping at me, agog.

"What? What did you just say?"

I back away, stumbling; I let out a whimper, then a moan behind my hands, frantically shaking my head. Peeta only steps closer.

"You love me?"

"You heard me," I plead brokenly, both with my eyes and my voice. I sound the picture of misery. "I…. I didn't want to. I've never wanted to fall in love. But I have, and I do." The tears come faster and harder now. "Why did you do this? Why did you do this to me?! It's all your fault…."

"Katty!" The bricks of the bakery wall are suddenly biting into my back, and I'm shivering in Peeta's arms where he crowds me there.

"What?" I whisper brokenly, gazing up at him.

His smile is baffling, the smoldering in his deep blue eyes…. eyes as blue as a summer sky…. shouldn't be there. "Enough talking." And I gasp when I feel his lips suddenly on mine.

It is my first kiss.

I lock up for only a moment, but then…. I moan, and the muscles in my limbs go water-soft as I reach up to sinuously loop my arms about his neck, happily closing my eyes as I kiss him back. "Hmmmmmmm…."

I shiver when I feel Peeta's strong and calloused arms – burnt from the ovens – encircle my slim waist to pull me close. Then his hands dip lower to caress and squeeze my bum through the folds of my dress; he kneads the tender flesh there like it is the dough he has handled all his life.

Audaciously, so much so that I stun even myself, I raise my leg to his waist, hitching it about his torso so that my skirts ride high up my thighs.

My breath hitches sharply and I mewl as Peeta lips leave mine, only to mouth down my face and into the sharp curve of my neck.

"P-Peeta…." I gasp. "We… we mustn't…. No…. Mmmm…" He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I melt into it, my head spinning. Back his face goes into my neck and shoulder, his tongue laving the beads of sweat along my skin, even though it is crisp and the middle of fall. "No, this isn't right…." I try to protest weakly. It does no good. Mashing his face in my hands, I kiss Peeta again, harder this time, my hands sweeping up his back to rummage along his shoulder blades.

I feel the bodice of my blue dress yanked down, exposing my dusky nipples to the cool, autumn air. Peeta's one palm cups me; when I let out a hiss, he gentlemanly retracts it back, only to have me take it and shove my breast back into his grasp.

"Hmm….. yes, more, please," I rasp, and Peeta blazes kisses down my collarbone. I draw his face down to my chest and when my lover lathers my other boob, taking the nipple into his mouth, I cry out.

But I like it. Heaven help me, I like it.

"Oh….. Oh, God….." I choke, arching my back and lifting my hips to press myself even further against him. As Peeta lovingly worships and feasts on my breasts, I feel his free hand rolling back the hem of my blue dress, pushing the skirts up around my hips. A biting breeze tickles the folds of my pink beauty, which is without undergarments and already very, very wet.

There is the clang of a belt, followed by the rustling of cloth as Peeta drops his trousers to his ankles. I push my hips closer, rubbing and rutting along his leg, needing…

"Please…." I can only croak.

I feel a stiff and bloated thing suddenly take me in one, swift thrust. I yelp, quickly clapping a hand over my mouth so we don't wake the neighbors in these waning minutes of dawn. The bricks sting into my back as Peeta slowly begins to thrust inside me, and I rock against him, whimpering at the pinch of pain which gradually starts to ebb. In my wildest dreams, I never thought I would go from trading squirrel to making love with this man, but here we are.

Peeta slams into me, and I groan again.

"H-harder…. Faster…. Faster…" I breathe, and Peeta jerks against me frantically. "D-deeper…." I low. I feel him hit that forbidden spot where I sometimes like to touch myself – right beneath my swollen bud – and I squeal.

"Oh, God, Peeta, YES! Finish me off! Fuck me now, or I'll scream! I'll – Ah….. Ahhhh… AHHHHHHH…..!"

I can feel the wave within me cresting, and when he makes me cum, when I feel him release deep inside my fluttering walls, my noodly muscles positively sing:

Ah, sweet mystery of life! At last I've found thee! At last, I know the meaning of it all!

My mind is in a dizzy haze, so much so that I barely hear what Peeta is asking me:

"Katty…."

"Y-yes….?"

"…. Will you marry me?"

I look at him. Really gaze at him once he sets me down, and I hurriedly collect myself so I don't look like I've just been royally fucked in the best damn sex I never thought I would be begging for.

It's crazy, it's madness, but when I gently loop my arms around his neck and kiss his lips softly, I can only give one answer:

"Yes."