Disclaimer : I do not own the series, as if you are surely aware of. But I do own some of the twisted plot in this fiction.
Percy’s POV
I jerk awake later that night (I had accidentally dozed off) with a gnawing sensation in my stomach. Stomach, not heart. I may feel rejected but for now, I’m hungry.
I look around at the sleeping figure next to me, wondering if I should wake her up. Remembering back last night brought another ache. This time to my heart. How can she not have a crush on me? I thought to myself as I pull another roll from the basket. And I had admitted I love her. I mentally cringe at the embarrassment the memory brought.
“ You’re up.” I nearly drop the roll when she spoke.
“ Don’t do that again, will you?” I say, feeling extremely annoyed.
She smirks. “ Since when are you easily surprised?” she asks, scooting over to the food basket. I didn’t retort, feeling my face warm. “ Were you going to eat without me?”
“ Oh, yeah. I was just about to eat this last piece of roll,” I say, waving the roll in front of her face. She laughs. “ I got hungry. Do you want to get creative?”
“ How?” she asks, taking the roll from me.
“ Let’s become bakers,” I say, grinning. “ Addy used to drag me to the bakery so that we can smell the bread and tarts and all. I always ask her, ‘Don’t you think this is some kind of self-inflicting pain?’ and she said, ‘Yeah. But it’s so good to resist’. Her favourite was the fruit tart. It was full of cheese and topped with lots of fruits. Strawberries and apples, mostly.”
“ Did you buy it?” she asks, looking astonished.
“ Are you mad?” I chortle. “ The baker’s wife would always kick our asses out of the bakery. And yet we go there again and again.”
“ You’re pretty persistent, aren’t you?” she comments, looking at me in the eye. “ With the Goat Man, the baker’s wife. I wonder who you will be persistent to after this,” she says, playing with the roll.
“ I’m only persistent for the sake of my loved ones,” I say, shrugging. “ So? What are we waiting for? Let’s whip some fruit tart!”
She laughs again. “ You’re the bakery expert.”
“ Nah…that would be Peeta,” I say as I carelessly top each of the half of the rolls with the goat cheese. “ He’s an artist. I could blow the whole district up if any of you let me make my own bread. Wouldn’t want that, would we? ‘Course, I’d go down in history as the kid who couldn’t bake but did and managed to blow the whole district up.”
This time, she doubles over with laughter. “ Remember the time when Prim asked you to watch over the soup we were making?”
I make a face. “ That was only a minor disaster.” You see, Prim asked me to look after the soup while it is simmering away over the fire. I took a sip, just to taste it and to me, it tasted pretty bland. There were several bottles of herb on the kitchen counter. Of course, since all of them knew which was which, none of it was labeled. I took all of the bottles and pour every single one of them into the soup. And before I could taste it, Prim says it’s done and calls Katniss and Mrs. Everdeen for dinner.
Prim, thinking I had only watched over it instead of doing something to fix it up, took the pot and serves the soup for each of us in a tin-bowl. We had severe diarrhea that night.
“ What can I say? I’m not a good cook,” I say as I add a few slice of apples to the smothered-in-cheese rolls before handing her half to her.
