I dart out of the door running to catch up with Peeta who is already down the road. I'm still kind of shocked of what I have said, yet I have meant every word of it. What exactly was running through my mind now? I feel stupid, loving and most of all fearless and I love every second of it. When I do meet Peeta I take my hand in his, looking into his beautiful eyes. Light and sparks are what I see, like this is what Peeta has been waiting for... fun. We walk in silence but you feel the heat being released from our bodies.

We get to the bakery in less than 5 minutes. Peeta is the proud owner of it now. Me, being stubborn doesn't really help at all. I usually sit in the back playing with my empty hands, my thoughts filled this sadness. I look back seeing how weak I was during the Games, the Rebellion. Now, when the worst is over with, I feel strong and unbreakable.

Peeta opens the door and guides me through to the back room with the ovens. "What did you say? Something about baking a cake... at 8:00 at night?" Peeta asks.

I wrap Peeta in my arms, "Loosen up. Come on, I have no idea how to bake a cake. Help!" I laugh like drunk Haymitch while rattling around with bowls and what seems like potions. I really need to sort out my priorities and guidelines, but not tonight.

Peeta starts pouring and mixing powders and liquids together. It makes an awful mush but I trust Peeta's instincts. It's funny when he's baking he does a little dance, moving his hips back and forth stepping fowards and backwards, whistling a happy song as he goes. I take a seat on the other side of the table/counter from Peeta and lean forward and kiss his nose lightly. "Tell me a story. Something happy. Something you want. Something in the future."

Peeta stops whistling and dancing but considers the offer. He pauses, "Well you are deffinetly involved in what I want. I've always wanted kids. 2, 3, 4 kids. But, I know you would never agree to something like that." I feel a pang of guilt. I have been holding Peeta back from what he's wanted for years. I should've saw this coming. He always looks so calm and relaxed when children come into the bakery asking for cookies and goodies.

"I'm sorry Peeta. I should've known..." I hide my face in my hands trying to pull my emotions away, trying not to cry at such a thing.

I feel Peeta come up from behind and wrap his arms around me. "It's okay. Lets not worry about what happened in the past or what will happen in the future. Let's just focus on what is here now and enjoy the moment." He kisses me on the top of my head and goes back to dancing and whistling, baking his cake. Peeta's confidence is brilliant. I love how nothing seems to get him down, except for the episodes. I love Peeta's smile and when he exudes happiness. I love when he comforts me when I'm a stubborn beast. I love him, and he loves me. For now I'll pretend like everything is okay. I'll pretend he wasn't hi-jacked, he wasn't taken away from me and I didn't start a rebellion that killed people I loved. Just pretend Katniss, I tell myself. Atleast now I know what is real and not real.

"Peeta, You love me forever, real or not real."

"Real." He looks into my eyes.

"You'll stay with me through whatever, real or not real."

"Real." His eyes turn slightly darker, confused.

"We are going to bake the best cake humanity will ever taste, real or not real."

He laughs, his crystal blue eyes bright again, "Real. Let's go! Bake, bake, bake that cake." Yup, he is totally going crazy from being too happy. I slightly laugh and allow myself to express a smile.

We spend an hour making this cake. Mixing strange sugars, different flavors of seasoning. Peeta does it naturally. His talent amuses me. There is singing, dancing and, yes, kissing while stirring and completing our first cake. When, we put the cake in the oven and wait for it bake Peeta has me practice painting different flowers. I'm basically sitting on Peeta's lap as he guide me through the strokes, his hand over mine. I feel his breath on my neck, it's warm like the bread from years ago. His breathing equal with mine. I give myself a mental reward for coming up with this idea, it turned at to be so much fun and a stress deductable.

It's about 10:45 when the cake is out of the oven and Peeta is icing is, covering it in a funny, expensive thing called fondant. We go along painting the woods, the cave, our house and beautiful flowers of the cake. Might I say, Peeta is an amazing artist and teacher for making it capable for the cake to turn out so elegantly.

Peeta leads me to the roof of the bakery. Memories from before the Games and of Cinna hit me but I shake my head and grab Peeta's hand. But, this roof isn't made for sight-seeing. We have to be very careful not to slip off and get hurt. That would be ironic if the two biggest rebels fell off the roof to their death. I sit down and have Peeta sit in front of me, his head in my lap. I play with his hair and trace the features on his face with the back of his hand. All while he is fading in and out of sleep. He seems so young and unbroken when he is asleep. I caress his face in my hands and kiss him awake, I don't regret doing it. I miss the sound of his voice.

When I do wake him up, he readjusts us so we are both laying down wrapped in each others arms, looking into each others eyes. He whispers, "I love you Katniss." before he drifts off to sleep. Even though he can't hear it, and there are no cameras I respond with, "I love you too, Boy with The Bread."