**Thank you all so much for the nice comments. It means a lot to me. I just want to say I know that there are errors, typos, plot gaps and what not. I appreciate each and every one of the comments you all have given me. I'm doing my best to keep updating regularly but I'm a busy college senior with 3 jobs, sorority, and a heavy course load. If there are errors it's just that I write these chapters so fast for you guys, I forget to slow down and fix things. You guys are awesome thanks so much for the comments! In the future I will go back and fix the mistakes but I figure you all want the chapters sooner rather than later!**

I've barely just recovered from 3 unfortunate needle sticks when Paylor rushes into the room. I'm watching my skin bubble and mend back together as if there was never a cut. It burns like fire upon my skin, it takes all I have to not grab the glass of water in front of me and hurl it against the wall.

"Katniss, you are positive it was Gale?" Paylor sits in a seat next to me.

"Yes." I admit and delve into telling her the necessities of tonight's events.

She think about everything I've just said then speaks softly, "He was foolish to come here. From now on Katniss, please do not go anywhere alone. We don't need something like this to happen again. I think just to be safe, you two will stay here for a few days. I don't want to risk exposing you if the rebels are in the Capitol."

She tells Peeta to make sure I don't go anywhere alone, and I see the reason why. I've never been one to follow directions, Peeta will have his hands full if I'm determined to go somewhere. Once we are back to our room Peeta collapses on the bed, as I rummage around for clean clothes. I find a blue t-shirt of his and head for the shower with my other clothes. I stand in the scorching water for almost an hour before I feel better. I slide into my warm leggings and Peeta's comfy shirt, my skin still pink from the hot water. Peeta's eyes are barely open when I flop on the bed.

"You have enough clothes for five girls and you wear my shirts?" He smiles and plucks at the baggy shirt.

I snuggle into his body and reply, "It makes me feel more protected."

He kisses me gently, "I can protect you more than a shirt can."

I kiss him a bit harder than normal, and he gently backs off. I'm sure the disappointment registers in my eyes.

"Peeta, please just kiss me this one time and don't hold back." I beg as my hands curl around to the back of his neck.

He softly presses his lips against my own our bodies pressing together. I love the feeling I get when Peeta wraps around me, it's a feeling of security and happiness. It doesn't take much for us to get carried away, after months of being cautious. It's like kissing him again for the first time, there's a need within my body that has been held back for too long. I hitch my legs around him and let him fall closer to me. He is absorbed in the feeling as well, his hands traipsing all over my body.

I know he won't be happy once he realizes I've tricked him into this. I didn't have to pretend to be so needy, he knew how I felt. The recent events of tonight helped my odds with this as well. He couldn't say no to me, because I knew him to well. Deep down inside him he was feeling guilty and angry that he was not there when Gale broke into the building. It wasn't right of me to play into his feelings like that, but I've craved this closeness for too long.

Peeta continued to kiss me for the longest time, simply trying to make me happy. He was successful in that aspect. I am never happier than I am in his arms or when he kisses me. He sweetly obliges me for the better half of an hour. Before I am finished kissing him my lips are swollen as are fresh new marks on my neck. I lay my head on his shoulder and snuggle into his warm body.

"Peeta, tell me about your dreams. Your happy ones." I whisper wanting to know more about the pretty things he draws when he remembers his dreams.

He runs his free hand through my loose hair, "I dream about putting flowers in your hair for our wedding. I dream about you and nothing makes me happier when I get those dreams. I dream of you dancing is the rain, and learning how to make bread with me."

My breath hitched in my chest, he had the same dream about us baking together. Behind my closed eyes I could see the perfect dream again. I had to tell him about it, it was now or never.

"I had that dream, too. Us baking together smiling and happy." I smile despite remembering the place where I had the dream.

"You did?" He breathes, "When?"

"In the arena, when I collapsed on the prairie." I mutter, my fingers plucking at his shirt.

His hand quiets my own, "I figured something beautiful was going on in your head at that moment. You looked so peaceful…"

"Because you bring me peace Peeta." I say heavily as my eyes refuse to open even for the briefest of moments.

"Good night darling." He whispers with a soft kiss on my cheek.

Despite the events of the night I experienced my first night of peaceful slumber. I woke up to Peeta laying beside me, drawing a picture. I watch his skillful hands shade and etch the page with soft grey lines. The picture is of me, in a long dress, what I can only imagine is what Peeta envisions me in for our wedding. Little flowers are twisted into my hair, underneath a sheer veil. The detail on the dress is by far the best I've ever seen. It was nothing like the gaudy contraptions the capitol gave me. It was simple, and delicate. I watch Peeta work diligently on the picture, his face relaxed and a small grin plays on his lips. He looks so happy when he is drawing or painting. This expression is nothing compared to his demeanor when he's baking.

He glances over at me and smiles when he sees I am awake, "You should have said something darling."

I push my finger on his lips, "I like watching you."

He smiles and pulls me out of bed, "Come on I have something planned for us today."

I cock my eyebrow at him. I knew we were strictly supposed to stay in the mansion due to the rebels getting too close for comfort. I think about how things have changed, not so long ago I was the rebel pulling one over on the capitol. Now I'm working with the capitol to squander these few bold resisters. Peeta is quickly getting ready in the bathroom, feeling particularly bold I decide to push his limits. I strip to my underwear and feign indecision while looking into my closet. I hear him walk out of the bathroom, and stop a few feet from me. I smile and turn toward him, seeing his eyes rake up my body.

"What should I wear?" I muse and hold up a dress.

Peeta continues to stare at me, "nothing you wouldn't want to ruin. We're going to get messy."

I find a violet t-shirt and opt for another pair of leggings that I like to sleep in. I wrap a silken scarf around my neck to hide the marks from Gale's hands and Peeta's lips. Peeta still looks rather unsettled by my little act, as I disappear into the bathroom to braid my hair. It isn't long before I am following him down to the depths of the mansion. We turn down dark hallway after dark hallway until we pass through dark double doors. Inside I find an old rustic kitchen, probably used by servants long ago.

"Peeta!" I hiss, "I don't think we should be down here!"

He smiles and pulls me further into the kitchen, "Nonsense, darling. I made sure we could use this place."

I smile and watch Peeta rush around grabbing things and setting them out on the center island. It isn't until he puts out flour and other ingredients that I figure out why we are here. He is acting out the dream both of us have had, baking together. A wide smile creeps onto my face and Peeta beckons for me to join him at the counter.

"Come on, I'm going to teach you how to make a very special bread." Peeta smiles widely.

I stand next to him observing as he tell me measurements and ingredients to add. After we've added the ingredients, I become eager to learn how to continue the bread making process. He halves the dough and sprinkles flour over the counter. He flicks a little bit of flour in my direction and laughs at my reaction. Peeta makes kneading the dough look effortless. He moves so quickly, his arms and shoulders flexing and rippling. I am too distracted by the sight of him to even move my dough around. He is working so diligently that a sheen of sweat breaks upon his forehead. I'm completely lost thinking of him holding me in those arms, his back exposed for my hands to devour. Before I realize Peeta has stopped, he's caught me staring at him chewing my bottom lip feverishly.

The slyest of smiles works upon his lips, "Distracted are we?" He muses.

I blush, naturally embarrassed that I've been caught literally undressing him with my eyes. He moves behind me and presses his body against my back. His arms wrap around my own and encompass my hands. He gently maneuvers my hands to fold the dough in on itself. It's a gentle give and take, an ebb and flow of sorts. His lips press against my neck every now and then as he maneuvers his hands over mine. The oven has heated up the air around us, fueling the fire within your bodies. I cannot handle the anticipation anymore and twist to find his lips. Our hands leave flour and doughy marks on each other's clothes. Our bodies are needy and flushed, as I break away for air.

I'm incredibly affected by everything about him, it consumes every fiber of my being. I want nothing more than to share my whole self with him, but that wish will never come true as long as we are in the capitol. I pick a piece of dough off his shirt, trying to forget my desperate wishes.

"I know…" He admits, the undertone of agony and regret in his voice stings like a cut.

"Just don't talk about it… I don't want to ruin this." I motion to the mess we've created in the kitchen.

Before I know it Peeta has shown me how to add other things like nits and berries to the dough and then form them into loaves. He sticks them into the oven and returns to my side. I've cleared off a spot on the counter and poised myself on the wooden surface. Our adventure in the kitchen turned to chaos with an innocent flick of a towel on Peeta's behalf. Flour and bits of dough are smeared all over us and the kitchen. I've wrestled Peeta to the ground and lay gasping for air, flour sprinkling out of my hair. Peeta softly wipes my face clear of flour and I return the favor, remembering hurling the powder into his face after he dumped it in my hair. The kitchen is in a complete state of ruin, as the warm nutty smell of bread begins to waft from the oven. It's then that I remember the smell of the bread. It was the bread that saved my family's life. The burned bread that Peeta chanced a beating to give to me so I wouldn't starve. I softly caress the cheek and eye socket where I remember the ugly bruise on his young face. His single act of defiance led to the greatest relationship of my life.

"I remember." I whisper and bring my lips back to his.