Disclaimer – I do not own The Hunger Games or any of its characters. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins.
A/N: Thank you for all the reviews again I really can't thank you enough. This is one of my favourite chapters & I hope you enjoy it. Some people have requested some Peeta & Katniss fluff ;) I'm not the best at writing fluff but I'll do my best for you guys. This is one of the longest chapters (so far) so thank you to my Beta Sarah for reading it. So without further ado, here's the next chapter (:
The next couple of weeks passed by swiftly within a blink of an eye. Every Thursday Peeta, Prim and I would walk home from school to the edge of the town. While Prim skipped ahead of us, eating whatever delicious treats Peeta brought for her, Peeta and I talked about various things, from school to family life.
It's the end of another hot week and as usual I'm waiting for Prim by the tree when Peeta unexpectedly makes his way towards me. "Hey Katniss," he said his voice rich and smooth like red velvet cake.
"Its Friday." I state, "don't you have work today?" I question, knitting my eyebrows together in confusion.
He nods his head in approval, "I do, but I've been thinking," he starts off by scratching the back of his neck. "Do you and Prim want to come by the bakery and help out with the cakes? I just thought it would be nice since Prim loves taking about the cakes and cookies."
"Ohh…" I say averting my gaze to the ground. I wasn't expecting this. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea," I say warily. I purse my lips into a tight line as I begin to ponder on the idea. Prim did love talking about the bakery, but I couldn't help to feel a bit dubious and fearful. "Your mother—"
He cuts me off before I can finish speaking, "my mother isn't home today, so there's nothing to worry about," he says, his voice genuine and sincere as he places his gentle hand on my shoulder.
His actions cause me to shift my gaze from the ground up to his heartwarming oceanic orbs. My eyes began to meticulously study his face intently. "I still don't know," I say unsure of the idea.
"Why don't you ask Prim first?" he suggests.
Of course Prim said yes, how could she not turn down this offer. She's always wanted to bake the perfect cake and her opportunity was here. This is for Prim I tell myself as we walk towards the bakery.
When we reach the bakery Prim's cerulean orbs swirled with excitement and her mouth opens agape like a fish. Peeta opens the door for us and we enter the vacant shop. We're instantly greeted with its warm atmosphere from the large industrialized ovens on the side of the room. The redolent aroma of flour and bread rising makes my mouth water. "Wow," Prim exclaims breathlessly.
"The aprons are over there," he points to a rack of white aprons hanging on some hooks by the window, "grab on and we'll get started," he instructs before making his way to the back room.
We both walk over to the apron rack and grab one. Prim slips on the white apron over her tiny frame and begins to fumble with the strings as she tries to tie them. I bend down and began to tie the strings into a secure bow for her, but she starts to jump and down from the excitement.
"Stay still little duck," I smile cheekily and she stands firmly still, as if her feet were nailed to the ground.
"I'm sorry, I'm just so excited Katniss! Thank you for agreeing to this," she says once I finish tying her bow and crushes me into a tight embrace. I wrap my arms around her slim body and hold her close to my chest.
I pull apart from the embrace and give her a quick kiss on the forehead before we both walk over to the main counter. Peeta walks back out and I notice that he has changed his attire into his baker uniform, and the first thing I notice are how strong and muscular his arms are.
"So what do you want to bake first?" he asks sprinkling some flour down onto the counter.
It only takes Prim a couple of seconds to conjure up an idea. "Cookies!" she exclaims.
Am amused chuckle slipped from his lips, "now how did I know you were going to say that?"
"Like the cookies with Primroses on them, they were delicious."
"Alright lets get started. First we'll need to make the dough." He explains as he begins to blend some ingredients together. Once he finishes mixing the ingredients he places the finished product of the dough onto the counter. "This is what you'll be doing, so watch carefully." His fingers work like magic as he kneads the dough and I find myself staring at his arms again. They tense and relax as they move with such precision and speed. He absent mildly wipes the beads of sweat streaking flour across his forehead and turns his attention to us. "Just like that, now it's your turn," he says.
Prim excitedly begins to mold the dough in front of her into different shapes and I bite down at my bottom lip nervously watching her.
"Are you sure Peeta? I don't want to waste your ingredients," I tell him truthfully
He shakes his head, "I'm sure."
I look down at the dough unsure of what to do and dig my hands into it. Immediately I can feel the soft, smooth, velvet texture that envelopes my hand, not the hard, grainy texture they give us to use from the rations we get. He watches me carefully and then a chuckle escapes his lips.
"What?" I say more harshly than I want to.
"You're doing it wrong," he clarifies. But before I can even press further I feel his hands on top of mine. His touch was . . . fragile. His hands were larger than mine. They were soft and warm just like the flour. He moves closer to me, closing the space between us so my back is gently pressing against his chest. "Baking is an art," he says softly with his lips dangerously close to my ear as he guides my hands through the flour.
"Like this?" I whisper quietly as I move my hand delicately through the flour.
"Just like that," he says, his voice low and soothing. His breath danced against my ear, which made my stomach do somersaults.
"I did it!" I hear Prim squeal in delight.
Peeta moves away and I suddenly miss the warmth of his hands and his closeness. "That's it Prim. Now I'm going to put these in the oven and we can frost the ones that I've made earlier," he brings out a tray of at least a dozen golden cookies that are cooked to perfection.
Peeta hands Prim the piping bag and she holds it carefully in her small hands. She bites down at her bottom lip nervously. "I don't want to ruin it," she says honestly.
"Don't worry Prim," he says in a reassuring tone, "just give it a go," he says and she begins to squeeze the end of the piping bag and blue swirls begin to appear on the cookie.
"I've ruined it!" she exclaims with a frown.
"No you haven't. Like this," he takes the piping bag and shows her how to make the shape of a flower on the cookie. "Just gently squeeze like that. Remember baking is an art. Think of the cookie as your blank canvas and picture in your head what you want to be on it," he says before he hands it back to her.
She bites her lip down in concentration as she gently squeezes the bag. Thin lines now appear onto the cookie and she manages to frost a little flower, although it's not perfect like Peeta, a smile still paints across her face.
We spend another good thirty minutes baking cookies until I remember I promised Gale that we could go hunting. "Ok Prim, time to go," I tell her softly as I take off my apron and hang it back.
"Aww!" her smile curves downwards into a small frown. "It was so much fun," she says as I help her take off the apron.
Peeta begins to place some of the cookies into a little brown paper bag along with a fresh loaf of bread.
"Thank you for letting us bake today Peeta! We had so much fun," Prim gives him a hug from the waist and then happily skips outside.
"Thank you Peeta, I had a good time," I say before he hands me the bag. "Ohh I can't pay for those," I say.
The corners of his lips curved up effortlessly into a sweet smile, showing his perfect pearly teeth. "No need, it's a thank you gift for helping me out today," he says.
A small smile manages to tug at the corner of my lips and it's the first genuine and real smile I give him. "Bye," I say and walk out of the bakery.