So this is my take on the first time Katniss and Peeta did … it. I wanted it to be bittersweet and happy and I think that I was I have created. Sorry it's so short. Thank you for all the lovely reviews.

Chapter 2/ into the woods

The next morning, lying in Peeta's arms, our legs tangled together and his blonde curls tousled and sticking out I get to thinking about the woods and how much I miss the beautiful, blissful freedom of the grass beneath my feet, the familiar smell of pine and the practiced way my steps lighten to a hunters tread.

The fact that I haven't been able to set foot into the woods in the three months I have been home bugs me on a daily basis but this morning I can't get it off my mind, even as I remove myself from bed and peel of my clothes from last night, not having had a chance to change them since the day before and with the intention of taking a long, steamy shower but I catch sight of myself in the mirror on the interior of my wardrobe door, instinctively taking a finger and tracing my largest scar down the length of my neck, then my stomach, to my hip and stopping just below my underwear at my thigh. The huge mismatched piece of uneven skin that makes me want to retch as I see Peeta in the mirror's surface, in the midst of removing his own shirt making his way toward me from the bed, struggling to get to his footing as he does first thing in the morning, his prosthetic probably rubbing him uncomfortably.

'What are you doing?' I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away from him, his chest as much an odd, warped war zone as mine yet so much more beautiful than my own.

'Helping.' He replies simply, reaching his arm out to me as he comes close enough to touch, my small, rough hands fitting naturally into his large, tough ones, fitting together like pieces of a peculiar puzzle.

I don't take my eyes from our hands as our fingers twist together until they are joined and I nearly don't notice a finger from his other hand tracing the same scar I was, but instead of barley touching it with disgust the way I was his touch isn't light or apprehensive, it is sure and strong and says all the things even he doesn't know how to express with his words.

He makes his way up to the lines on my neck and ends with the palm of his hand wrapped around my face, tenderly pushing my chin up so my eyes meet his, making it impossible for me to blink away the tears that have welled up in my eyes, tears of hurt and embarrassment and love for him. This man, my boy with the bread, who loves me despite my scars.

I smile at him as I put my hand on his stomach and trace his scars, my heart fluttering as he smiles back at me, his dimples larger than life up close.

But my happiness soon turns to confusion as he removes his hands from my face and turns me once again to face the dreaded mirror, Peeta standing behind me, his beautiful face and some of his shoulders appearing clearly over my own petite figure, the golden skin of his sculpted chest contrasting against the olive tones of my own, which along with his light hair marks everything against us as completely different except the scars.

The thick, red scars that tie us to one another mark on us physically what we've been through.

A physical representation of our story.

A story of loss, of hurt but of love as well.

We continue to stand there in perfect stillness for another five minutes, each observing the other until Peeta finally speaks.

'Do you see it now? That we're the same? Two pieces of one puzzle.'

'Two pieces of one messed up puzzle.' I smile at him in the mirror and his small smile widens until it becomes a laugh that takes me over as soon as it does him, leaving us both in a fit of laughter as we again turn to face each other, only stopping when his forehead come to rest against my own, the feeling of panic and embarrassment that usually follows me like a shadow finally leaving as I step into the rays of the sun.

Peeta's sun, his warmth, his happiness.

His hope.

The hope that from the day I saw him has kept me going, surviving and living until this moment.

This moment right now.

A moment of such happiness I let go and press my lips savagely to his, pulling away quickly to look into his eyes one last time before I yank him into the shower with me, his laughter still ringing like a bell.