It Started With a Cake

Ch6. Birthday

The bed is warm this morning, so is Peeta I notice as I feel his loose embrace around me.

For a moment I stay still, taking in the blissful moment for myself, then after a small sigh I tilt my head up towards him, watching his soft expression with a smile. He's awake, barely at that, probably only just woken up also. 

"Happy birthday" are the first words I tell him when his eyes connect with mine, only just noticing I'm awake.

"Thanks" He smiles happily down at me as he leans in to kiss my lips, he moans in approval as his lips moisten my dry lips.

I'm the one who gives it to him, being his birthday and all.

My round is quick, both of us desperate to enjoy this morning to all its worth. Then he rolls us over, pushing me down into the bed as he greedily takes me as his.

His lips are extra soft this morning, working harder then they ever have before it seems.

He takes his time with me, enjoying every single moment of it and keeping me begging for more.

When he finally finishes, he collapses onto the bed next to me, both of us out of breath.

After a moment he turns to look at me and turn my head towards him.

"I'm going to make some breakfast, then after we can keep this party going"

I smile at him, "yes sir" I cheekily tell him as he leans in to kiss my nose, his touch tickling me.

I take my time to make my way out of bed, picking up some of the disposed clothes and sheets off the floor as I make my way to the bathroom.

I decide on a quick shower when I make it there, feeling gross from our night time and now morning activities.

The warm water is relaxing on my bones which I only now realise just how achy they are, probably from all the extra activity we've been doing lately.

After awhile I begin to feel a bit faint as I stand there unmoving, deciding this means I should probably dry off I turn the taps off, stepping out into the cool air of the bathroom.

The sudden change in temperature or maybe the smell that comes from the kitchen downstairs brings an onset of nausea, daring me to throw up what little is left in my stomach from last night.

I hold it in though, not up to that level just yet.

As I make my way back out to the bedroom to pick out some clothes the thought occurs to me.

I've seen it many times in my life, strangers showing up at our doorstep, nausea riddling their tender bodies, begging my mother to fix them, only to be told the news of a pregnancy, and in most cases an unplanned one.

The conditions are so much different now though I have to remind myself, this is what we wanted, and of all days Peeta's birthday. I'd never be able to top this birthday gift ever again.

I rush to the bathroom, finding one of the little sticks from the cabinet and ripping it open.

I've done this a million times before it seems, but something about this time feels different, I feel it deep down, flutterings in my stomach making my hands shake in anticipation as I pace the bathroom back and forth.

When a few minutes have passed I pick it up, taking a deep breath before inspecting it closely.

One line.

I will myself to keep looking, I mustn't have waited long enough I tell myself, the second one will come up any second.

But when a few more minutes have passed I drop it defeatedly.