Hey! Before you read this, I have to admit…I had pretty much given up on this story until I decided that maybe, just maybe, I can pull this off. But I need reviews, people! (:
My heavy eyelids slowly flutter open. I roll over and see Peeta has woken up as well. He plants a wet kiss on my forehead and, for some reason, I find myself smiling. I've been doing way too much of that lately.
"C'mon, we can't just lounge around all day." Peeta says, jumping out of bed. Figures, him being a baker's son and all. He turns and looks at me expectantly. I grunt and furrow deeper into the warm blankets, forming a cocoon around my body. Seeing this, Peeta just laughs and pulls the blankets off the bed.
"Humph." I curl into a ball, trying to conserve my own body heat.
"Would you like me to help you?" Peeta asks. I nod my head vigorously. Before I know it, Peeta's scooping me up into his toned arms, wedding style. Not that I'm objecting or anything. As a large cinnamon roll is placed in front of me, I think of Haymitch. I haven't visited him yet, and I wonder how he's doing. Drowning in alcohol, no doubt. But he hasn't had someone to look after him, or make him cinnamon rolls every morning. Suddenly I know what I'm going to do today.
"I'm going to visit Haymitch." I announce triumphantly. Peeta gives me a look, but doesn't say anything. He just packs some cinnamon rolls in a basket and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I skip all the way to Haymitch's run down, dreary house. I find him sitting at the kitchen table, passed out as usual, clutching his knife. I retreat to the cabinet over the sink, finding that familiar plastic pitcher and filling it with water. Haymitch yelps and jumps in the air at the sensation of the cold water hitting him. Seeing him stand up, fall down, and attempt to stand again, I conclude that he must have been out for a few days. I wrestle the knife out of his hand and toss it in the trash. Somehow Haymitch makes it to the couch, and I grab a cinnamon roll out of the basket and give it to him.
"I see lover boy's been at work." He slurs.
"Well, I'd prefer he bake nonstop then drink nonstop." I retort.
"Would you know, sweetheart? That can't be the only reason you came to visit me."
I sigh. Might as well spit it out now. "I came to get your advice."
"Ah, I see. Came to seek the advice of your wise mentor." He snorts.
"Do you see anybody else I can go to?" That shuts him right up.
He finishes the cinnamon roll and rubs the back of his neck with his hands. "Ok, shoot."
"I want to rebuild the bakery. For Peeta." I say, and it's true. I know Peeta would love it, but it's just too painful. If I do it for him, on the other hand, I'm sure he'd love it.
"Well, then what are you waiting fo-"
"Will you help me?" I blurt out before he can finish. Haymitch snorts, assuming that I'm joking, but when he see's that I'm serious he shifts in his seat, pondering this. After a few moments of silence, he nods his head slowly.
"Great. Let's get started."