My dress was already around my ankles by the time I pushed the bedroom door closed with the back of my hand. Peeta, who was in front of me, took a step forward and kissed me deeply. With another kiss he pushed me back an inch or so. Taking a step of my own to compensate, I nearly tripped over my dress. Peeta smiled shyly as he caught my arm. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet all day, but I knew that he was very happy. With his strong arms, Peeta picked me up off the floor an inch or two. He then slid my dress across the hardwood floor with his foot. It was white, and I hoped it wasn't going to get dirty. My dress was special to me, but I knew that was not something any man was likely to consider on his wedding night. There was some lace trim on it, but my dress was very unlike the gaudy one the capitol citizens had chosen for my "fake" wedding. My real wedding dress was chosen by me, and it was perfect. Peeta had told me that I looked radiant in it. The only item related to the capitol on the dress was a blue sash that had been made by Cinna. Delly suggested that I tie it at my waist because in District 13 they told her she should wear something blue on her wedding day.

Freed from my dress, my feet stepped backwards as Peeta's stepped forwards. I interlaced our fingers, and we held our hands at about the level of my shoulders on either side of us. After a few more steps, I felt the soft cotton mattress sheet on the back of my knees. Peeta let go of my hands. My underclothes fell to the floor moments later, and I thought about how much faster a woman can be undressed than a man. Is it that way by design? I wondered. Time consuming or not, I went about the task of making sure my husband reached a similar state of undress. He was more than happy to help in the process. I focused primarily on unbuttoning his dress shirt. After I'd opened it, I laid the side of my head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

I felt elated at finally being Peeta's wife. It was very freeing. His body belonged to me and mine to him. All the pent up longings could be released. Physically, I felt a little dizzy. It had been a long day. I was glad when Peeta touched my shoulders, encouraging me to sit down on the mattress. Then I felt myself being gently laid down, and I began to tremble. I felt that Peeta had to guide me through this in a way I hadn't expected.

"Are you cold?" Peeta asked.

I shook my head. I knew exactly why I trembled. It seemed ironic that I'd been a volunteer tribute, a victor, and a soldier; but I trembled at the vulnerability of intimacy. Peeta began kissing me again. I ran my hands up and down his body as far as they would reach. My dizziness only increased. I put my hands on Peeta's shoulders in an attempt to feel steady. He was right about his skillful baker's hands; every cell in my body seemed to become more sensitive by the second thanks to his touch. I closed my eyes. Tiny lights appeared in the lids. It was almost more than I could bear, pleasurable yet uncontrollable. My body ached in a way I didn't know was possible. I leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"It's alright to do it now."

His eyes registered surprise, then relief.

"Really? Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes."

I breathed deeply near Peeta's neck and took in his scent. He smelled like flour and frosting as he'd been baking for days. My hands trembled against Peeta's shoulders even though I tried to stop them.

"Are you really sure you're ready." He asked gently, his blue eyes stared into mine with both desire and concern. "I don't want to hurt you." He added.

"You won't." I lied.

"Promise me you'll tell me if I need to stop." He said.

"OK." I whispered. "I promise."

I felt like crying but didn't know why. I just loved him so much. I wished I wasn't so nervous. So I forced my mind to travel far from my fears. I imagined the coolness of the cave. I envisioned that most meaningful of kisses, the one that made me want another. I remembered the feel of Peeta's protective arms wrapping around me on the train. I thought about him soothing me after my nightmares. I recalled the hunger I'd felt on the beach. Thinking of Peeta and his long history of love for me melted my anxieties. I felt that hunger from the beach building inside me again. My mind seemed jolted to the present by it. I felt my breathing change. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled my whole body to meet Peeta's efforts. It was then that we became inseparable.

After, he whispered, "I just need to hear you say it tonight. You love me. Real or not real?"

His sleepy blue eyes glistened as he waited for my inevitable reply.

I told him, "Real."