My eyes flutter open to the sound of Peeta’s heartbeat. We lay in the same position as we fell asleep, all tangled up in skin. I shift in my position and rest my head on Peeta’s collarbone, and I place a subtle kiss there. He starts to stir, and his eyes become alert with compassion, “Good morning, love.”
“Morning.”
“No nightmares?” Peeta says placing a stray hair behind my ear. I shake my head no and rest my head back on Peeta’s chest.
“What’s going through your head right now,” Peeta asks gently, but I don’t know why. I just look up into his mesmeric eyes in confusion, “Katniss, I can feel your body shaking.” I guess that is nothing knew for me; maybe I’ve grown into it.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
“Awe is somebody a little nervous for their interview today?” Peeta gets a good laugh, but I am nervous for the interviews. Yes, it was more nerve-racking for the Games and there was a lot more at stake, but, everyone knows, I am not a likeable person. I never had to show a vulnerable side before and now every time I make and appearance I have to become someone I am not--that part really just sucks.
“C’mon,” Peeta picks me up and carries me bridal style to my favorite part of the hotel room, the kitchen. He puts me down in a chair and he starts to get a whole bunch of ingredients out to make breakfast. Because we over threw the Capitol and there is no more, uh, Snow, there are no more avoxes forced to slave anymore. However, they are asked to work wherever they are needed.
Peeta looks so focused on making French toast, and I feel bad just sitting there, so I offer to help, which even makes me laugh.
“Maybe I can help,” I ask.
“I could see it now, Katniss Everdeen: the Bakers protégé. Or should I say, Katniss Mellark, because you won’t be cooking for a while, I’ll bet.”
By the corner of the table I eye up a container of flour. So, I decide to have a little fun with Peeta. I walk over and take a handful of flour in my hand.
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you honey?”
“I actually do, Katniss,” Peeta smirks.
“Really? Okay.”
“Why, what did I do know?”
“Oh, you didn’t do anything.” I decide this is the perfect time to throw the flour, “Whoops, I guess you’re right, Peeta,” I laugh.
“I try to do something nice for my fiancé ad this is how you repay me,” Peeta says sarcastically. I shake my head, “This is war now, baby.”
Now Peeta comes after me with the whole container of flour. Defenseless, I grab the closest weapon I can find- eggs. I hide them behind my back so Peeta won’t see. I am behind one side of the island and Peeta is at the other side. Every move I make, he mimics me.
Peeta starts to break to the right side of the island, so I start to break left as fast as I can. But Peeta is so fast, he runs over to my side and dumps all of the flour on my head. But I still have the eggs in my hands so I break them atop Peeta’s head, “Why the hair, why,” Peeta complains.
Both of us are laughing so hard, we forgot about the French toast cooking. It is so far past burnt, it starts to go into flames. Peeta and I are both looking frantically for the fire hydrant for a good 5 minutes, and with every second the fire keeps growing. The fire detectors begin to beep just as Peeta finds the hydrant. As he is spraying the fire out Effie and Haymitch walk in.
“What in the hell is going on in here,” Effie exclaims.She usualy never ,and I mean NEVER says a word worse than 'heck'.
“We had a, um, French toast emergency,” Peeta tries to explain.
