Caged Nightingale [Hunger Games Fanfic]

Food (I)

Lamb Stew:

He remembers the first time he hears her mention lamb stew as her favorite food. She's in a dazzling bejeweled dress that when hit just right, makes her look like she's engulfed in flames. And when she twirls, actually literally is on fire for a few moments and his heart stops momentarily in that time.

He can read in her eyes she's nervous and unsure what to say in her interview and for some reason he watches her intently. She's dazzling, he thinks.

She was captivating at her Reaping, entrancing at the Tribute Parade, and utterly enchanting in her interview.

She was charming in a way at her private evaluation, but he'd prefer not to remember it as it was embarrassing how caught off guard he was then.

Caesar Flickerman warms her up with her a question and her answer amuses him. Lamb stew, he thinks. It brings a smile to his face and he tucks the fact into the back of his mind, for some reason taking special note of it.

And then the last question of her sister and he can't help but listen closely and feel a sorrow at her words. He has a passing thought that he might like to cook her lamb stew in comfort one of these days...

"Seneca?" Katniss' voice brings him out of his memories.

He glances over at her, stirring the pot sleepily.

"What are you doing?" she yawns, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she pads toward him on bare feet.

Captivating, entrancing, enchanting and charming...and now she was adorable and sexy at the same time, dark hair falling passed her shoulders and disheveled, her gray eyes hooded from just waking up, and one of his spare dress shirts was being used as a sleeping gown and barely covering her thighs.

"Cooking," he mutters in embarrassment. "Comfort food. I was thinking you wouldn't want dinner's leftovers, considering what they symbolized..."

She sighs. "Seneca? Shut up. Go back to bed. It's almost two. We'll...deal with that in the morning. At a reasonable hour," she clarifies at the end.

"But –"

"My eyes are still sore from all the crying. I want to go back to sleep. Just come back to bed," she says irritably, a slight pout forming on her lips.

She tugs at his shirt expectantly and he smiles gently, turning off the stove and covering the pot, and then following her back to bed. Perhaps a little later in the day...

Eggs:

She wakes up to the smell of something delicious. For a second, she fondly exasperatedly thinks that Seneca has returned to cooking the lamb stew first thing when he woke up, but quickly realizes the smell is much different from her favorite stew.

She's getting up when Seneca enters the room with a serving tray full of food. She raises her eyebrows at it.

"Breakfast in bed?" he offers, holding up the tray. "Scrambled eggs, hard-boiled or soft-boiled eggs, poached eggs, and sunny-side up. And toast for the sunnies."

She blinks and then says wryly, "This marriage thing might not be too bad if I'm getting a personal cook."

But he starts looking at her guiltily and his body sort of tenses and she just feels like pulling her hair out.

"Stop," she says sharply. "Don't look at me like that...I'm over it for now. I really don't feel like thinking or talking about Snow's latest scheme. Let's just enjoy the food, okay?"