Maybe It Can Be Real

Chapter 33

Ending of last chapter:

I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. My eyelids become heavy, and I let myself drift back into sleep.

Hoping my nightmares are over. Knowing that Peeta wants to marry me. Knowing that I don't want to die.

****

I wake up later, this time my short slumber nightmare-free, thankfully. Peeta's arms are still wrapped securely around me from behind. I'm the most comfortable I've been in a while, so I decide right there and then that I'm not doing anything today.

I gently turn around to face Peeta, and I see that he's already awake, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges in a soft morning smile. I smile back and lean forward to softly press a kiss to his slightly-stubbly cheek.

"Morning," I whisper.

He rubs my arm. "Hi. How'd you sleep?," he asks, acting like I didn't have a, well, basically a mental breakdown in the middle of the night. Peeta probably feels like I don't wanna talk about it or something. And I don't, so I'm glad he doesn't bring it up.

"Well enough, I guess," I respond. "I'd like to go back to sleep for five years, though."

He chuckles. "And why is that?"

I shrug. "When I'm sleeping, I sleep well, I just don't actually sleep a lot during the night."

His mouth forms an 'o' shape.

I cock my head to the side. "Well, I guess that's not entirely true. I only sleep like that on bad nights...," I say, trailing off toward the end.

I scoot forward and wrap my arms around him, pressing us chest to chest, our legs tangled together, my face buried in the crook of his neck.

"We can stay home today," he says.

I smile against his neck. "That's exactly what I wanted to do."

He kisses the top of my head. "Good, cause I already told June I wasn't coming in today." He must've gotten up earlier while I was still sleeping and called her. I laugh a little.

June, an older yet absolutely sweet woman, was hired earlier in the year by Peeta to help out at the bakery. She takes over on the days Peeta can't come in to bake and stuff. I honestly think one of the main reasons Peeta hired her was because of the motherly essence she gives off.

I adore her, much like Peeta does. Once in a blue moon a child will come in and she'll give them a free cookie if they do a silly little dance for her, which always gets a laugh out of everyone in the bakery. I don't think Peeta minds the small loss of money. In fact, I know he doesn't. I also know he would love to have a child of his own, so that will just have to suffice. For now, I'm assuming.

Sometimes I'll be in the bakery when one of those children comes in. The look on Peeta's face is an unforgettable one. His eyes light up, even brighter than they normally are. A huge smile finds its place on his face, and crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. My heart beats quicker and I grin. And in those moments, I think about the rapid beating of my heart and the indescribable feeling in my chest, and I know I'm falling deeper in love with him, if that's even possible.

Which I don't regret at all. I only regret the fact that I can't, won't, give him the children he wants. And deserves.

****

I jog down the somewhat crumbly walkway to the gate of the Victor's Village to the collection of metal mailboxes to pick up our mail for today. I roll my eyes at myself cause I can't remember the last time I dealt with the mail. Peeta always does it, so I don't have to worry about it. Which is stupid. He shouldn't have to constantly do it. It's not really a big deal, though, so I'm not even sure why I'm thinking this much about it.