Author's Note: I am sorry for the wait. I hope you are pleased with this chapter, the next is already in the workings. By the way, I do have reasons for the slightly odd title. This story begins with Peeta and Katniss eating breakfast, and Panem translates to bread in Latin. I know Breakfast in Bread is cheesy, but it's also easy to remember. That's my explanation! Any reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading.

All material related to the Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins.

As if a fire is ignited inside of me, my entire body awakens with a kind of energy I am not familiar with. My eyelids shoot open, and leave my gray eyes to attempt to focus on the world around me. Everything is white, extremely white. Almost too white to be real. It is like I can feel the sensation of my pupils growing and shrinking rapidly, trying to find something with enough substance to be seen.

Finally, as if a switch has been flipped, I see everything. I hear everything. The monitors beeping at a steady pace around me, the bright lights above, the stark white walls at every direction. Next, I see him. I see his eyes, his striking blue eyes that look surprised and ecstatic at the same time. They are hopeful, always hopeful.

I am dazed, but do not have to try very hard to grasp the memory of the previous night. The last thing I remember is the warmth from Peeta's embrace, the warmth that absorbed every bit of pain and distress that was lingering in my body. He's so good to me.

Too good.

He is happy right now because the love of his life has returned from darkness and has allowed him to save her life, once again. He doesn't deserve me. He does not deserve to acknowledge the retched existence of Katniss Everdeen.

I sit up in my bed, and hold my palm to my forehead to steady the spinning surroundings. Soon enough, I am able to stand and manage to stay upright. Peeta does not stand, he simply sits in a chair beside the hospital bed with a content look on his face. I feel like I am floating, like my feet are not in contact with the freezing tile beneath me.

I look at the window on the other side of the room and take a deep breath. I have to do this, I have to rid myself from his life. It will make him happy, it is better. For both of us. This claim is repeated in each airy step I take towards the window.

The moment I reach it, Peeta appears in front of me. His panicked expression resembles the one warning me of the tracker jackers in the arena so strongly that I freeze for a moment. It is identical, I am sure of it. What is happening? He raises his hands up, and then seems to be shaking my shoulders, yet I feel nothing. I don't feel that familiar radiating warmth penetrate my flesh through my hospital gown. My body does not even seem to be moving.

Then, my hand flies to his cold but heaving chest, and I feel his heart beating violently beneath my palm. I rip my hand off of him before I am able to change my mind and turn around, my numb hand clamping onto the window sill in front of me. My arm raises almost mechanically, allowing the outdoor air to flood into the stagnant room. Peeta is now sobbing behind me, screaming my name, and my entire body is frozen.

Not for long.

Now I am falling, plummeting to my death.

I count the seconds, and wait for the world to vanish. I wait for my existence to abandon the world. I am waiting, anticipating the burden of myself to fall off of Peeta's shoulders. I hear his voice calling my name, echoing in the air, becoming farther and farther away.

Suddenly, all I want is for him to be happy. By falling to my death, I am granting him that happiness. As I smile to myself, and begin to laugh, the world turns black.

I am dead, and the world is riant yet again.

"Katniss?" A voice enters my eardrums, one rich with love and alleviation. How am I hearing his voice? What is happening?

I realize my eyes are open, but I cannot hardly make out anything. I see a figure hovering over me, some dull colors, but nothing distinct. I am genuinely confused.

"Katniss?" The well-known voice continues, "Haymitch, come here. I don't know what is happening."

At the sound of his voice, I realize it was a nightmare. Or maybe it was a dream.

"Move over, boy. You're probably smothering her."

The figures shuffle, and a new, pungent smell accompanies my senses. Eventually, the alcoholic breath makes me gag. My vision begins to recover, and I cover my mouth and nose with my hand to block the stench. Haymitch cackles to himself and mutters something about how he once told me that drinking came in handy every now and then.

As the world comes rushing back to me, I slowly sit upright and wince at the pain surfacing on my skin. I glance around me, my eyes wide and dry, trying to tame the muddiness of my mind at least partially. I take deep breaths and, while everything seems to move slowly, I am aware of Peeta taking Haymitch's spot in front of me. He places his rock-steady hands on my cheeks, and looks at me with tears in his eyes.

I melt at his touch and fall into his chest, trying to gain my composure. I take each shaky breath as it comes, holding in the emotions that want to come spilling out. I cannot fall apart now and risk repeating what happened last night. Right now, I need to be strong solely for Peeta's sake.

"Peeta, I love you," I whisper as he rocks me back and forth.

"I love you so much, Katniss," he breathes.

I inhale his comforting, sweet scent and relish in the feeling of safety that has engulfed me. We stay like that for a long time, Haymitch making his departure after several minutes. Peeta eventually loosens his grip on me and I pull away from him.

"Care to fill me in on what happened after I passed out?" I ask, curiously.

A concerned look appears on his face. "I felt you go limp and, while I was still worried, I was hopeful that you would wake up calmer than you were. I picked you up and carried you to my house, laid you down here," He says, gesturing to the couch. "I ran to Haymitch's house and made him come over, told him that you panicked and hurt yourself."

He takes a deep breath and runs his thumb across the top of my hand. There is no doctor in District Twelve, not even a healer, due to the tedious rebuilding of the district. They have not replaced my mother since the war, leaving everyone to fend for themselves when faced with medical issues.

"We pulled most of the thorns out. You flinched occasionally, but didn't wake up. You're pretty beat up, Katniss. You certainly did some damage. When I found you, I was really worried that you were badly hurt." He's rambling, now. He looks at my eyes, then down at the floor. Then, his eyes meet mine once again. He sighs sadly, and his eyes begin to well up with tears.

"I'm sorry, Peeta. I never wanted to scare you, I was being stupid. I'm sorry," I say, knowing fair well what my true intentions were. The last thing I wanted was for him to find me and try to comfort me. I did not and still do not deserve his unwavering devotion.

"No, that's not what's bothering me. Katniss, I remember what you said to me." A single tear runs down his face.

I stare at him for a moment. What I said? What did I say? It takes me a moment, and then I remember. I asked him to kill me, I took advantage of what harm the Capitol inflicted on him, and I asked him to take my life. I let go of his hands and look to my side, tilting my head downwards.

"You asked me to kill you. Do you understand how dangerous that is? Fortunately, that flashback was minor. The next one might not be, though. Katniss, you can't-" He firmly sets his hands on my shoulders, and I close my eyes and flinch. He looks too much like he did in my dream. His expression is panicked and scared. The grip he has on me, like he's scared I'll disappear if he let's go. It's too similar. The look in his eyes tells me I have hurt him, badly. He softens his touch and looks at me, concerned. "Are you okay?"

I open my eyes and turn my head back to him. "I knew how dangerous it was, and that's exactly why I did it. Peeta, look at yourself!" I pleaded, my eyes beginning to tear up. "All I do is hurt you. Why can't you see that?"

Without hesitance, he kisses me, desperately. When he pulls away, he begins to speak, "I love you. If you were only capable of hurting me, I wouldn't have asked you to marry me. I'm not a moron, Katniss. You saved my life more than once. If it weren't for you, instead of losing a leg, I would have lost my life."

"Wouldn't you rather be dead than live through what I've done to you? Peeta, I killed your family. It's my fault they are dead. I should have just eaten those berries-"

"None of it is your fault. Please, please trust me. You were trying to survive. You have always had two objectives; to survive and ensure the safety of the people you love. If it weren't for President Snow, Rue wouldn't have died. Prim wouldn't be dead. My family would be here. All of this death rests on his shoulders alone, Katniss, not yours."

There's a part of me that believes him. Deep down, I know his words hold truth. I am unable to argue with him, so I stay silent. I don't say a thing, until I realize there are three words I don't tell him near as often as I should.

"I love you." I whisper, and he pulls me into his arms. He holds me tightly, and I do the same to him. We embrace each other, again, before Peeta helps me up to go eat something.

I sip on hot broth and tea until I feel somewhat satisfied. There's a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach as I contemplate my next move. I want to surprise him, to catch him off guard. Who knows what he is thinking after my episode last night. He wanted that wedding so bad, I wanted that wedding so bad, and I blew it because President Snow has nearly managed to ruinme.

I slip out of my seat at the kitchen bar and walk over to Peeta. I kiss him softly, sweetly, and hope that today I can make up for my mistake. One of my many, many mistakes.

My right hand unsteadily grabs the stair railing as I make my way up the stairs. I can do this. I can do this. It's what we both want, and need. We need something special, something to brighten our lives, before it's too late. Before I can't make my way back to sanity. Before this morning's nightmare comes true. Still, somewhere deep inside of me, I feel it's inevitable.

I get to the closet in the back bedroom, the one I have stored all of my clothing from the Capitol in. After the war, I was extremely distraught and only seemed to be getting worse, living in my ginormous house with zero company. In an attempt to make things easier for me, possibly bring me back to the almost-mentally-normal Katniss, Peeta moved everything from my house that he thought would bring back negative emotions into his own house in the Victor's Village. That included the wedding dresses Cinna made for me. Little did he know, my blatant existence reminded me of the death and descruction I had "suffered", because my existence is what caused it all.

It's done now, though. I need to move on, for him.

Those are the thoughts that wind themselves around in my head as I finger through Cinna's beautiful but over the top work that I have hidden in this dark closet. Many of the dresses are covered in gems, lace, extravagant embroidery, and because of this, none of them feel… right. They all seem so out of place in District Twelve, a place where brides are usually married in whatever looks clean and decent at the time.

As I am eyeing a rather over the top ballgown, attire that only belongs in the Capitol, something falls off of a shelf above me and hits me square in the head. I fall to the floor, more out of surprise then anything, and laugh at how un-Katniss that was of me. I suppose I am still weak and uncoordinated from last night.

I look around for the perpetrator, my cheeks heated in embarrassment despite my being alone. As soon as I spot the book, a small gasp slips out of me. I'm not able to ponder the discovery for very long, as I hear Peeta bounding up the steps and hop up as fast as I can. I grab the book, so dear to my heart, and stuff it in the closet, shutting the doors. After completing those actions at the speed of light, I scoot up against a wall, knowing that I will look suspicious no matter what I do. I'm standing in a dark, empty room that I have never entered before. Of course it will look suspicious.

His prosthetic makes quite a racket as Peeta flies down the hallway, looking for me. "Katniss? Where are you?"

"I'm in here. Stop worrying, I'm fine!"

He enters the room and lets out the breath he had been holding, relief and confusion written on his face.

"Are you alright? What are you doing in here?"

I try not to hesitate before speaking, "Just looking. I basically live here already, and it occurred to me while I was up here that I haven't even stepped foot in every room."

He, surprisingly, seems to accept my answer. "Well, what was that noise?"

This time I do hesitate, "I-I tripped. That's all."

"Oh… alright. Be more careful, you've had it rough lately. I'll be downstairs, there are cheese buns in the oven for whenever you are done snooping around my house." He smirks, and I nod.

"Thank you. I'll be down in a little while."

"By the way, you know I don't believe you." He laughs to himself and leaves the room.

I shrug my shoulders and open the closet again, retrieving the book. It's Cinna's, the one he stored his designs in. I flip through the pages, the ones I have already seen, until my eyes fall upon the first page of the section I had previously avoided. I try not to let it happen, but a tear falls out of my eye and onto the picture he had sketched of me. There are the words, the words that I just now realize I need to see to remind myself that there are reasons I'm still hanging on.

I'm still betting on you, Girl on Fire.

I flip the page, afraid of looking at it any longer, afraid of the tears that might come if I do. I'm not sure why I am doing this. What is there that I need to see? I was never one for exuberant fashion, surely that isn't what I'm interested in. Maybe I just want to feel the paper between my fingers, knowing that there was a day when Cinna did the same.

And that's when I see it.