Maybe It Can Be Real

Chapter 55

Ending of last chapter:

Nodding my head, I murmur, "Yes, I'm sure."

The biggest smile that I think I've ever seen lights up his face, tears springing into his eyes. I haven't seen him look this happy in a while. The worry lines in his face disappear. He quickly stands up and comes over to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. I can see the happiness etched into every fiber of his body.

"Okay."

****

Now Peeta can't stop saying thank you and smiling at me when he thinks I'm not looking. Whereas before he couldn't meet my eyes, he now basically won't stop looking at me. He looks at me as if I'm the most magical thing in the universe, not just a person who happens to be his wife. Who will now give him children.

The thought still makes me feel like I'm going to throw up. It causes me to scientifically decide that there are butterflies living and flying in my stomach. I don't think I'll ever get used to the idea. Sometimes I'll think, What did I get myself into, but after debating it for a while, I remember that I did it for Peeta, not me. It's not about me right now.

I'm not quite ready for my life to drastically change yet. But I told Peeta I was ready, so now I have to deal with the repercussions.

"Good morning, my beautiful wife," Peeta says cheerfully, cupping my cheeks and planting a kiss on my lips.

"Wow, aren't we chipper this morning?", I ask, smiling at Peeta as he starts pulling things out of the cupboards for breakfast. I blow the steam off my cup of tea in front of me. Maybe I should put an ice cube or two in it. It's scalding hot.

"When aren't I?", he shoots back. My mind flashes to a few incidents. Some which happen to be fairly recent. But I don't bring those up.

"Your silence isn't promising. Don't answer that." Biting back a grin, I take another sip of tea.

"Oh my - ow!", I shout, making a strangled sound. I drop my cup onto the table, hearing it splash everywhere and grabbing my tongue with my forefingers and thumbs. "Ow, ow, ow!"

Peeta stops what he's doing, a concerned and worried look overtaking his features. "What - Katniss, are you okay?"

No longer hopping back and forth between my feet, I look over at him, a faint blush adorning my cheeks. "Uhm, the tea I made was still a little toasty," I explain sheepishly, trying to speak around my fingers in my mouth but failing pretty spectacularly.

Rolling his eyes with a small grin forming on his lips, he walks over to the cupboard and pulls out a glass, filing it with ice and water. I take it thankfully, gulping down the cool water to soothe my burning tongue. "You'd lose your head if it wasn't screwed onto your shoulders, I swear, Katniss," he says with a chuckle.

"Hey, that's not true," I retort. It can't be taken very seriously though, considering the fact that my speech is still messed up a bit.

He shrugs. "That's debatable."

I gasp. "Oh my God, you are a terrible human being!"

Laughing, he says, "Hey, that's not true."

Mocking his voice, I repeat, "That's debatable."

"Yeah, whatever," he scoffs, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes. "How's your mouth now?"

Sticking my tongue out and trying to look at it, I mumble, "It's fine, I guess. I think it's going to be burned a little bit. Ugh, I hate that feeling."

He comes over to me, holding out his hand. "Wait, I'm not going to touch your tongue. That's gross."

Scrunching up my nose, I say, "Yeah, don't do that. Please and thank you."

He leans forward and kisses my forehead softly. "You're so cute when you do that."

I scrunch my nose up again. "I'm forty years old, Peeta. I don't think 'cute' is the right word for me anymore."

He starts working on breakfast again. It involves something with flour and milk among other things. I'm sure it'll be delicious. "You're my wife. I can use any words - endearing, of course - I want to describe you."

Smirking, I say, "So you could, theoretically, call me curse words?"

He starts, dropping the egg he was attempting to crack. "Well... Theoretically, yes. Realistically, no."

"Glad we cleared that up."

He looks at me and furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly to the side. It's almost like I'm a science experiment and he's trying to figure out how I work. "Sometimes I don't understand you," he tells me. "But I guess that keeps things interesting around here. And I adore you nonetheless."

Leaning over the counter, I grab the dishtowel to wipe up my spilled tea. Peeta then starts up a conversation about some people he's seen around the town that needed his help.

****

Pulling my hair back into a braid, I walk into our room. It's dark in here except for the light emanating from under the bathroom door that's connected to our room. I can hear the low buzz of Peeta's razor through the ajar door.

Rapping my knuckles on the white-painted wood, I call, "Peeta, can I come in?" Without waiting for a response, I push the door open, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his torso from behind, pressing my forehead between his shoulder blades. Sighing, I close my eyes.

He presses his free hand against mine. "Is everything okay?" I nod against his back. "Yeah, I'm just thinking."

Putting down the razor, done with it, he turns around in my arms, putting his arms around my waist. Mine slide up to go around his neck. He gently sways us back and forth. "What about?"

"Us. The bread. How we met. The day we got married. Happier stuff."

He smiles softly, dipping me toward the ground a little. "I've actually been thinking about that recently too. It's incredible, really, how it all worked out." I hum in agreement, letting my eyes fall closed as my head rests against his chest.

I could stay here forever, wrapped in the arms of my loving husband.

"I haven't done much of this today," Peeta whispers as he presses his lips to mine. A moment later he pulls away, playing with my dark braid. Before he pulls too far away, I put my hands on the sides of his head. "Let's fix that then." Smirking, I grab his hand and pull him out of the bathroom onto the bed. Planting myself in his lap, I kiss him softly, gradually becoming more desperate and passionate.

In a second his shirt is pulled off and thrown to the ground, mine soon following it. He falls back, pulling me with him so I land on top of him. When I reach down to his pants, he stops me, whispering against my lips. "Are you sure, Katniss?"

Looking into his blue eyes, I hope to convey all my trust and love to him through my gaze. "Yes, I'm sure."

So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"

I tell him, "Real."

****

Hey guys! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed! Oh my gosh ahaha last night when I was building a fire for the Fourth of July with a friend (happy belated Fourth of July, by the way), the fire wouldn't start and I got angry and yelled "KATNISS CAUGHT ON FIRE FASTER THAN THIS" and I just

Anyway, you know the drill. If you enjoyed this please vote and comment. I love getting your feedback!

Shoot straight and be brave my fellow lovelies,
Weezabeth <3