Walking down the stairs into the bakery, I found Peeta with his back against me. He must have heard me coming down the stairs, but he was concentrated on the cookies he was making at the moment. Even though he had been down here for the last six hours. I myself had just gotten back and cleaned up from a hunt.

After Peeta had finished rebuilding the bakery, and the apartment on top, he moved in. Just in time for Effie to move to District 12, actually. Peeta had offered her his old house, and she had taken it. Haymitch hated having her as a neighbor, but he was slowly getting used to it. She wasn't quite what she used to be, either. She was still cheerful and annoyingly optimistic at times, but after moving to District 12 she was a toned down version of herself. No wigs, no crazy clothes. She still had a little bit of make-up every day though. She said it was to make her feel at home.

I don't know exactly how it happened, but Peeta and I, we lived together now. After he moved out of the Victor's Village, he spent a lot of time in the bakery, trying to get it up and running. He really didn't have to though. Everyone knew who he was, and with the new transportation system, everyone all over Panem could get his cakes and cookies. I told him he worked too hard, but I also saw how much he liked it. So I let him.

But at the beginning, he was usually really tired at night, so we ended up at his place. After some time, I found myself walking there without even thinking about it after a hunt. I barely spent any time in my house at all. But still, none of us really thought of it as moving in until I told Haymitch I was going home, when I meant going to Peeta's place.

And home, it was nice. A home to me had always been some place I felt loved. Some place I felt safe. Some place I could be myself.

And this place, it had all of that. I had never liked the house in the Victor's Village. That had been nothing but a house to me. A house that I happened to live in. It's was too big. But this loft above the bakery, it was home. Peeta was home.

"I made some cheese buns for you," Peeta said without turning around, and I felt myself smiling. Taking one from the counter, I chewed on it as he continued to talk.

"Get anything good?"

"Nothing more than a couple of squirrels," I told him the truth. He turned around then, a small frown on his face.

"I didn't see you with anything," he said, more to himself than to me, as he placed the cookies in the oven.

"I dropped them off at Rooba's," I stated and saw him nod. He was just about to lean in for a kiss when we both heard the bell ring, indicating that someone was there to buy something.

Peeta let out a sigh, placed a kiss on my lips, and then I saw him brush his hands off on his pants as he walked out of the bakery and into the shop. As soon as he was out of my sight, I rummaged through the cabinets as quietly as I could, on hunter's feet. He wouldn't hear anything. Especially not with Haymitch screaming to him about having no alcohol, and how Effie annoyed him. Well, the train would get here tonight. He would have plenty then. I couldn't do anything about Effie though.

I finally found what I was looking for behind some bags of flour, folding it neatly and hiding it before Peeta could come into the kitchen with Haymitch following him.

"A little help?" he mouthed and I fought my laughter back.

"I'll see you at five for dinner," I told Peeta as I grabbed Haymitch and pulled him out the back door. Haymitch fought with me as long as he knew that Peeta could still see us, but as soon as we had rounded the corner I let him go and he grabbed my arm.

"Where's the squirrels?" he asked, his voice sober.

Haymitch seemed to love my squirrels just as much as Peeta's father once had, and it was easy to trade them for something I needed. A distraction.

"In my old house, relax," I told him as we started to walk toward the Victor's Village. Haymitch grumbled something I couldn't hear, and I ignored him.

"Why did you need that distraction anyway?"

"Because I can't hang around the bakery all day, waiting for a customer that might just stay for two seconds. I needed you to distract him for a longer time."

"Why?" he asked, wanting to know.

"Just because," I stated and he didn't ask any more questions. Thankfully. Actually, none of us spoke until I gave him those three squirrels and we said goodbye. Effie came out of her house just as I walked past it, and I tried to hurry. I had a pretty good idea for why the Capitol clothes were back on.

"Katniss, wait!" she called after me, and I had no other choice than to do just that. I let out a sigh just as she stopped next to me, and I started to walk again.

"What's with the clothes?" I asked and she looked at me with a shocked expression.

"Katniss, it's a big, big day today. Peeta's birthday. Not anyone turns 20 every day."

"Oh but Effie, that's tomorrow," I told her smoothly and she looked at me with wide eyes.

"No, Katniss, I'm pretty sure it's today."

"Effie, it's tomorrow," I told her again, giving her an apologetic smile. She asked me again, and I told her yet again that she had the date wrong. So she left, saying that she had a big, big day to get ready for. I laughed to myself as I saw her walk away, shaking my head in amusement. I hadn't expected it to be that easy. I'm not a good actress after all, and not a good liar either. But she bought it, which was the important thing.

Peeta was in the shop when I came back, so I walked straight up the stairs to get ready. Taking out the folded piece of paper, I placed it on the counter in the kitchen and started to read.

This really couldn't be that hard, right? It's just a cake. Not that I had ever baked in my entire life, but it should be easy. I had watched Peeta do it countless of times, right? Not that he ever followed a recipe. That's also how I knew he wouldn't miss this one. He did everything by heart. He grew up baking and frosting, and he didn't need a piece of paper to tell him how to do it right.

I did though.

And it turned out to be a lot harder than I thought it would be.

I failed with my first two cakes, burning the first one, and the other one tasted horrible since it didn't have enough chocolate. So as I started with my third attempt, I made sure that the oven was on the right temperature, and that there would be enough chocolate.

I smiled to myself as I placed it in the oven, having a good feeling about it, and then I started with dinner. Both of which would be done at five, when Peeta would come up to eat. As the dinner was cooking, I decided to take a shower since I was covered in chocolate and cake. Putting on some nice clothes afterward, I braided my hair back just in time to hear Peeta come up the stairs.

"Katniss?" he called out, and I answered him from out bedroom. I heard his footsteps come to a stop though, long before he could have reached me. "What's burning?"

Running out of our bedroom at his words, I found myself in the kitchen within a few seconds. Peeta was already taking out the cake from the oven, and I looked at it with despair.

Burned. Again.

All I wanted was to bake him something nice. Was that too much to ask for, really?

"What is this?" he asked, turning to look at me with an amused smile.

"It's supposed to a chocolate cake," I told him and he nodded as he pressed his lips together not to smile. "Don't laugh."

"I'm not," he promised, and I shook my head as I glared at him. He was laughing. He tried not to show it, but it still counted, because he was clearly laughing on the inside.

"So, what's it for?" he asked me then, glancing at the cake, placed on the counter. I walked up to the stove, thinking about not answering him, but I did anyway as I took prepared our food.

"It's your birthday, and I wanted to give you something nice. It's why I brought in Haymitch to distract you before. So I could steal a recipe from you."

I had my back against him, so I couldn't see his reaction. But when he hadn't said anything for almost half a minute, I thought about turning around. I needed a reaction. Good or bad.

That's when I felt his arms around my waist, pulling me to him. His chin rested on my shoulder, his lips pressing a kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered in my ear, and he sounded really sincere.

"It's just a cake, and I ended up burning it," I said as I turned around in his embrace. His lips found mine as he shook his head, and I kissed him back.

"No one's ever baked me a cake for my birthday. Burned or not, I'm eating the whole thing."

"Are you serious?" I asked, and he knew what I meant. He grew up with cookies and cakes and bread surrounding him. His father was a baker. Of course he had a cake for his birthday.

"My father always managed to put away some newly baked cookies for our birthdays, but that was it. We could never really afford anything more, and ingredients for a cake is expensive. Chocolate is expensive."

"You never got a cake," I murmured sadly. Even I got a cake when I was a kid. When my father was still alive. My parents always saved money for our birthdays, so that they could get us something. A cake from the bakery. "Now I really wish I could bake."

He laughed, pressing another kiss against my lips. This one lasted longer, and when he let go it was several moments later.

"I burned your bread; you burned my cake. Let's call it even, shall we?" he smiled and I laughed with him.

"Actually, I burned two," I told him honestly and he laughed as we took a seat at the table. He took the cake with him along with a fork, and we both ignored the warm food that was waiting for us. I sat down in his lap as he dug the fork into the cake, and watched him as he ate it.

"That can't taste good," I murmured and he took another bite.

"The best birthday cake I've ever eaten," he smiled as he chewed, leaning in for another kiss. I could taste the burned chocolate on his lips, and I let out a sigh as our lips broke apart. He was obviously going to be stubborn about it, so I could be stubborn with him. So I stole the fork from him and took a bite of my own. And, a part from the burned chocolate, it wasn't half bad.

"You could teach me how to bake, and next year the cake won't be burned, " I said, leaning my forehead against his. Our noses were touching as he answered me.

"Only if you teach me how to sing."

I knew he only made that deal because he loved hearing me sing, and he wanted me to sing more, but I agreed with a kiss.

"Okay," I told him and he took another bite from the cake. In his pace, the thing would be finished soon. "Effie might be running around here tomorrow, screaming about how it's a big, big day."

"Why's that?" he asked, his mouth full of cake, and I smiled.

"Because today, I wanted you all to myself."