An Unfinished Battle (The Hunger Games FanFiction)

Chapter 13

Our kiss is interrupted by the buzz of the oven, indicating that our cookies are fully baked. I reluctantly part lips with Peeta, and he heads back to the kitchen to tend to the cookies. I follow his lead and watch him as he pulls the tray of cookies out into the counter. He sets them down and then wipes his brow. "Do you want to take these home, or shall I sell them here?" He asks, casually leaning against the counter.

"Nahh, I'm not really hungry. You can just leave them here," I replied.

"Okay," he said "Do you want one while they're still nice and warm?" He asks, picking up a cookie, with gooey chocolate chips drizzling over the sides and plopping it into his mouth.

"Sure," I say, grabbing one off of the metal baking sheet. The warmth of the cookie radiates in my mouth and the melted chocolate basks on my tongue. Peeta's cookies are always a sweet treat.

Peeta collects the remaining cookies from the cookie tray and places then in a cute little basket. He then sets them out in his huge glass display counter for customers to admire and hopefully purchase.

I extend out my arms and stretch like a cat, releasing a huge yawn, "I'm so sleepy," I say, "Can we get going home?"

My yawn triggers a yawn in Peeta as well, "Sounds good to me," he says through his outstreached mouth, "Let's close up the shop."

Peeta heads back into the kitchen to clean up all the pots, pans, and ingredients we used to bake the cookies while I put the chairs we sat in back up on the table and lock up the glass counter. Peeta shuts off all the lights, "Okay, let's head home." he says.

We descend back out into the cool night. Peeta's keychain jingles as he locks the wooden door to the bakery. I take my hand in his, and we creak off the wooden porch and begin crunch the leaves under our feet as we shuffle towards home. Peeta's palms are cold and clammy against my own, but I don't mind. We casually swing our hands back and forth in time with our steps, as if we don't have anything to worry about, but we do.

"Hey, Peeta?" My voice seems loud and echoey as my question bounces against the quiet night.

"Yeah?" He replies, his voice is thick and heavy with drowsiness.

"Are you worried about what's going to happen with Gale and everything?" I ask. Peeta doesn't reply for a few moments, the only sound in the air is the padding of our footsteps against the dusty walkways leading away from the town square. The silence sends a surge of anxiousness through my body.

I hear a sigh from the body next to mine, followed by a few more seconds of slience. "Well," Peeta begins, "I would be lying if I said I wasn't, however I just don't believe he would do something to me because that would result in hurting you. And no matter what kind if person he is, I really don't think he would want to do that."

I ponder that thought for a moment. "But Peeta," I say, "Something's different. He's changed. You didn't see him yesterday at the party, but I did. And I can tell you for a fact he's out to get you. Believe it or not, I do really know who he is, and I can tell when he wants something. And he wants revenge. I can see it in his eyes. When I looked at him when he spilled the wine, his eyes looked similar, but had that terrifying blackness in them. They kinda looked like yours do when you have your .. You know..." I say, carefully choosing my words to prevent Peeta to springing back into his nightmares.

"Well," Peeta says a slight tremor in his sleepy voice. "I guess we have to wait for Haymitch to wake up and see if he knows anything before we make any plans."

I stop dead in my tracks, suddenly remembering my phone call with Annie, and the reason I came out looking for Peeta. "What is it Katniss??" Peeta questions, looking concerned.