Work Text:
Friday
“Are you the baker’s wife?”
Katniss spins around and blinks at a bright-eyed little girl, speechless. The girl’s mother notices Katniss’ dumbfounded expression and rushes over. “No, dear, she’s just his very best friend.” The words sting in Katniss’ ears as she watches them leave, and she turns around just in time to see Peeta push through the swinging door into the backroom of the bakery.
~~~
“You’ve been home for four years now, and living with the boy for three and a half. Life’s too short, sweetheart. Show him you’re in it for the long haul.”
Katniss nods and stares wordlessly at the glass of whiskey in front of her, the one that she asked for but has no intention of drinking. They sit in comfortable silence until the sun goes down, and she lets herself out once she hears the familiar sound of her mentor’s faint snoring.
~~~
“I don’t want to be ‘just very best friends’ with you.”
Katniss feels Peeta shift in bed behind her, his arm tightening around her waist. “Well,” he begins softly, “what do you want to be?”
She turns around to face him, connecting with his blue eyes that shine in the moonlight. She brushes the hair off his face and he smiles, and she knows in this moment that she could look into those eyes and adore that smile for the rest of her life.
“Can we bake a loaf of bread tomorrow?”
His eyes light up, and he nods in understanding, his faint smile stretching into a full-blown grin.
“I think that can be arranged.”
Saturday
They bake the bread in the morning. It’s the same kind he gave to her all those years ago, the hearty loaf made with raisins and nuts. The bread that saved her life.
They make love in the kitchen while the dough rises. It’s a mess of flour and tangled limbs, laughter and moans, bowls and spoons clanging to the floor.
They wash the dishes together once the loaf is in the oven, and she relishes in the simple chore, mentally adding it to the list of things she wouldn’t mind doing every day, forever, so long as he’s beside her.
They leave the fresh bread to cool on the counter while they take a walk, making it all the way to the meadow. She lays her head on his lap and picks at the grass while he plays with her hair.
“I don’t know what I’m going to say,” she whispers.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he replies.
They watch the sun set, and she decides that she’s ready. Finally ready.
~~~
Katniss takes one last look at herself in the mirror. She found a long, cream-colored, satin nightgown buried deep in the closet, and it feels like heaven on her skin. Her hair is free from its braid, cascading down her back like a waterfall. Butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach, and she smiles to herself. Only Peeta makes me feel this way.
His lips part in awe as he watches her descend the stairs. “You…you look beautiful,” he says, and she blushes. She straightens the collar on his crisp, white, button-down shirt. “You look perfect,” she whispers.
They light the fire together, as is tradition, and watch as the flames begin to dance in the fireplace. They toast a slice of their loaf and share it in silence, the only sounds in the room provided by the crackle of the fire. Eventually, he leans in, takes her face in his hands, and kisses her gently. Over and over again. Each one a vow. Each one a promise.
Peeta breaks the silence first. “I may still get lost from time to time.”
Katniss kisses him. “I’ll always find you.”
She leans into the crook of his neck and breathes him in deep. “I may still have bad days. Very bad days.”
He holds her tight and strokes her hair. “I’ll always get you through them. I’ll always wait for you to come back.”
They remain that way, wrapped in each other’s arms, pledging to always do this, always do that. The vows continue until the sunlight fades outside, and Katniss asks, “What’s for dinner?” Peeta laughs, lifts her up, and carries her to the kitchen. She hums the tune of the traditional marriage song as she sets the table, and he takes her hand and dances her around the room. They laugh and dance, dance and laugh. They dine on a small feast and make plans for tomorrow. Simple plans. Hunting plans. Bakery plans. Shooing geese plans.
In bed, one more promise is made. One that’s always been understood, but has never been spoken. “I’ll always love you, Peeta,” she whispers. He lets out a breath, the one he’s been holding since he was five years old. “I’ll always love you, Katniss.”
“Always.”