Chapter Text
I wake up happy, with no nightmares plaguing my waking hours and surrounded by Peeta and his warmth.
I usually wake up after him, but today's Sunday where Peeta makes himself sleep on the bed for extra hours just to prove to me that he's taking a break from Bakery as is necessary.
I roll my eyes fondly at him. The covers are bundled around his naked hips unlike mine which are close to my neck. He runs hot and since he insists on the windows being open at night, I just force him to surround me to keep me toast. Not that he's ever complained about that.
I roll in his arms to face him and just admire the sunrays falling from the windows on his hair, burnishing the curls golden. I trace my finger from his hairline to his eyebrows, slowly running it over his left eyebrow.
Peeta's nose wrinkles in his sleep.
I pause, waiting for him to wake up.
I continue over to his other eyebrow. They're pale too but darker than his hair. I consider touching his pretty eyelashes but decide to keep that to the last, in case he wakes up.
I run my finger over his nose, which is slightly curved.
I finally reach his lips, open in sleep, and warm air falling on my face now that I've gotten closer to his face during my exploration. Soft and a pale pink. The freckles on his face, now that he spends a lot of time under the sun, between Bakery and helping with reconstruction, are like stars on a pale sky.
I kiss his mouth lightly.
It took us quite a long time to get here. Or maybe, just me. Peeta fell in love with me, war torn and everything, again within a few months after coming back to 12. But he had to spend a lot of time waiting for me to get better, or whatever better I deserve after everything that's happened.
It wasn't easy. But Peeta used to say that it's worth it. Worth the struggle to get better. I don't always see it. Some days harder than the others. But days like today, I know what he meant.
I kiss the corner of his mouth now, a little harder.
His arms tighten around me and he hums.
I grin up at him, expecting him awake. But nope, his eyes are still closed.
Well, two can play this game.
I stretch a little and lean more over him, my hand on his chest supporting myself.
I kiss his forehead, over the scar he got when he was a kid, fighting with his brothers over something he doesn't remember anymore.
I kiss the bigger burn over his eyebrow, twice. Because I can.
I kiss both his eyelids, wishing I can see the cornflower blue. Most days, that blue gives serious competition to green. His eyes move behind the lids.
I press the tip of nose to his and rub it back and forth.
He can't keep his smile off anymore. He tries to catch my mouth in a kiss but I'm not done with him just yet.
I press a hard kiss on the cheek closest to me. He laughs, pulling me closer. Running his hand in my hair, that's come almost entirely undone, sometime during the night.
"Good morning," He says, his voice sleepy and happy.
I kiss the corner of his grin. "It's still very early. You should sleep."
His turn to roll his eyes.
I bite his chin.
Now, he's pulled me entirely on top of him.
"Says the girl who runs off to go hunt, earlier than now." He rubs his nose against my cheek now.
"I was cozy and warm and it's winter." His eyelashes are doing that gold shimmering thing from this angle.
He looks at me with warm, sleepy eyes, his eyes crinkling at the corners in happiness.
I finger his necklace, a small sun shaped pendant I bought from the hob, the 3rd time I dared to go there again.
A small girl was selling those along with her mother, both not from district 12. The first thing I remembered after seeing that pendant was Peeta. So, I bought it impulsively but held onto it for months before I gave it to him. Back then I was sure that nothing ever would happen between us, not after everything. But I found the courage to give him the necklace three days back, after we were done with the memory book.
He was surprised to receive the gift, saying that they didn't do it a lot in his family, or ever.
In a fit of righteous indignation for young Peeta, I told him that, "You remind me of the Sun, Peeta. Like..," Words still didn't come easy to me. My hand scrunched the ends of my skirt, but Peeta was patient with me, with a warm smile on his face. Waiting for me, always, to find the words I want to share with him. "My father used to tell this old story, a myth really, of the Sun God, he's called Polo I think? Apparently he was blonde with blue eyes and a bright smile. And quite the flirt," I teased him. He smirked and pulled me close, running his fingers down my arms, and curled his fingers with mine. "And I don't know, my dad said that he was a symbol of hope, that even after a really long and bad night, the Sun will still rise." I looked up into his eyes, "Like my dandelion." He rested his forehead against mine. His arms, always ready to comfort me, pulled me close, his lips not far behind. That night when he asked Real or Not real, I answered what I've known for awhile then, "Real."
Peeta's never taken it off since, except for when he baths.
His touch on my back pulls me into the present. I give into my urge to touch his eyelashes. I've been a little obsessed with his face. He's more than willing to indulge me, sometimes without teasing me. He opens his mouth, I'm guessing to tease me, but I give him something better to do. I pull him close using the chain and kiss him.
He moans, his hands getting bolder.
"Apollo," I murmur against his lips.
He pulls back, his brows furrowed, his mouth still curved. "Huh?"
"Apollo. Not Polo, I just remembered." Peeta moves a strand of my hair behind my ear.
"Not Polo? So, I'm not also the God of water games and horse games? That sucks." He says, his voice all tease.
I bite his shoulder in retaliation. He yelps, laughing, shaking us both.
"No, Apollo," I repeat again.
"Now, that you've said it thrice, should I grant you wishes?" He quips, running his fingers down my spine. I shiver.
"That's a genie," My voice comes out breathy.
"Ah. Then will you be giving me offerings? Since you won't let me branch out." He's enjoying this a little too much.
"I bring you squirrels."
"Dead ones."
"You still eat them." I snort.
"It's hard to argue with a huntress. Especially when she has her weapon of choice."
"He was also God of archery, by the way. Which you suck at."
"Semantics, what else am I good at?"
I roll my eyes. Leave it to him to frame it like that. "You're lucky you're cute. He was the god of sun, archery, poems, music, singing, medicine. That's all I can remember."
"So, you complete me on my quest for godliness, huh?" He flips us both and now he's on top of me. He runs his fingers over my sides.
"Uh huh." My voice comes out higher than normal.
"And I can also bake those divine snacks called Cheese buns. While I'm overqualified, I'll still keep the title. Better than Boy with the bread." He adds the last part, with a smirk and a wink at me.
I take personal offense to that, I pull his face away from my neck by pulling on the hair at the back of his head, "I like 'Boy with the bread'."
"Yes," He rubs his nose against mine, back and forth, "yes, you do."
I fall into a fit of giggles when he starts tickling my sides.
"Peeta!" I manage between my laughing, "Stop!"
Peeta stops tickling me and lies down beside me now, running his fingers over my face, reminiscent of what I did a few minutes before.
"Real?" He asks. We both know what he means.
"Real." I answer, catching his lips.
To some, the myth is a source of hope, every morning. To me, I open my eyes, and there he is.