Author's note: My final entry into the tropes challenge. This round was missing scenes. I chose the toasting. (The following is from my note on the entry over on The Everlark Games page) I know several people have written the toasting, but I have long wanted to try my hand at it. Thank you all so much for reading. And thank you to F Yeah Everlark for organizing this blog and these Games. It's been a blast! Best of luck to the competition! This story contains the quote by Julia Child, "You are the butter to my bread, and the breath to my life."

I took a bit of a chance and wrote in first person present tense this round. I was a bit worried when I took it on, but it ended up working out. And I got second place.

Congrats to Xerxia for winning the challenge! Go check out her work!

And, finally, I want to say one more thanks to writingbutunpublished for always reading my stuff and helping me get through everything I write.

Happy reading!

It Starts with a Toasting

I pace the floor as I wait. Peeta should have been home from the bakery an hour ago. I remember that he did say this morning that someone ordered an ornate cake that needed to be finished as soon as possible. Still, he's rarely ever this late.

I'm about to douse the fire and be done with the whole business when the door opens.

Peeta stands there with a large box in his hands. "I brought home cheese buns." He gives me a confused look as he takes in the plates and sticks sitting beside the fire. He looks me over in my white dress.

I carved the sticks myself in preparation for this day. One of the traditions for a toasting was for the man to pick and carve the sticks for both to spear bread to turn over the fire.

With a nervous smile, I take the box from Peeta's hands and pull him down in front of the hearth. I pick up the sticks and hand one to Peeta. "Will you toast with me?"

He smiles, takes the stick from me, and says, barely above a whisper, "I will." He chooses one of the strips of bread and slides it onto the stick I hold. "Will you toast with me?" He asks.

"I will." I can feel the tightening in my throat as I reach over to put bread on his stick.

We both extend our sticks to the flames. Peeta says the first words, "You are the butter to my bread."

"And the breath to my life." I finish.

We turn the bread on our sticks silently for a few more minutes until it is done. I remove mine first and hold it out. "I promise to nourish you in all aspects of life."

Peeta smiles and takes a bite. "I promise to sweeten the bitter moments as much as I am able." He offers me the bread he toasted.

I take a bite. "I cannot promise we won't fight. But I can promise to fight fair."

He takes another bite of the bread I am holding. "I cannot promise every day will be easy. But I can promise to support you through the tough ones."

I take another bite, my heart beating heavily in my chest. There is just one more thing to say and I swallow past the lump in my throat as I whisper, "My heart and my body are yours. Now and forever."

Tears are now falling freely from Peeta's cheeks as he repeats the phrase. In the next instant, I am against him and he is kissing me.

The hunger he brings out in me is insatiable. My hands roam the expanse of his muscular back. His lips flit across my jaw.

We know how to please each other by now. It's been quite a few months since that first time. But still it's all so exciting when his lips brush over my collarbone and his fingers trail over the bit of skin exposed at my thigh when he pushes up my dress.

My heart is now beating so fast that I can't think clearly. All I know is that I just want him to just get it over with already, but at the same time I never want it to end.

"Bedroom?" He asks.

"Bedroom." I agree, pulling him up off the floor.

It feels like only a short time later when Peeta and I part, but I can see the orange of the sunset through our open window. Hours have passed.

Peeta nuzzles against my hair and whispers, "We had our toasting today. Real or not real?"

"Real." I whisper back. I spread my hand over his chest to feel his heartbeat. "I love you."

He lifts my face up and presses a kiss to my lips. "That's real."

I press my face into his neck and kiss it. We lay in silence for a while longer.

Peeta breaks it. "We should probably consider food soon."

"Just give me those cheese buns and I'll be good to go." I say, feeling the smile spread across my face at the thought of what more will come later in the night.

He laughs and gets out of bed, reaching down to pick up his prosthetic leg from the floor. "I'll be right back with the cheese buns. I'll brew some tea first." He leans over and kisses me once more before leaving the room.

I lay there resting my eyes for a while. I can hear Peeta rummaging around downstairs. He murmurs softly to the cat something I can't hear. Thankfully, Buttercup doesn't venture upstairs. He's fond of Peeta's art studio, though. Seeing him is still painful sometimes.

Peeta walks into the room carrying the box of cheese buns on a tray with the tea things. He carefully pours me a cup of tea and fixes it to my liking as I nibble a cheese bun. He makes his own cup and settles in beside me.

"Can we have the baby talk again?" Peeta asks me softly.

I heave a sigh and lean against the headboard. "I said no. And you know why."

He holds up his hands and says, "Just let me make a deal with you. I won't ask you again for five years. If you decide before that, you can start the conversation. But I won't say another word about it myself before then."

I think about it a long time as I eat the last of my bun. It is a good plan. "How about a bit of a compromise? In five years, we'll try for a baby. Either of us can change our mind at any time."

He considers it a moment before he nods. "Okay."

It isn't long before the tray is placed on the floor and Peeta and I are wrapped in each other again.