A/N: Huge and special thanks to my wonderful (and sometimes unnerving with the deadlines) Beta: ANONALECE... without her I couldn't have done it

I own nothing... all belongs to Suzanne Collins... I just wanted to spend a little time with her characters

Raisin Nut Bread

It's been three years and a half since the rebellion ended. Three years since Peeta came back and we started to grow back together. Two years since the first time I gave myself to him completely; since he asked me if I loved him and I said "Real."

Today is our second anniversary and coincidentally it is the same the same as that of an ancient holiday celebrating love called Valentine's Day. It supposedly was a day when couples went out of their way to show each other how much they loved.

Honestly, I find this whole thing a little pointless when it comes to Peeta and me. He's always going out of his way to demonstrate how much he loves me: he cooks my favorite meals and bakes my favorite pastries, draws or paints significant moments from our lives together and tells me he loves me in every imaginable way (he's always been a genius with words). I'm not that good with words, but I try to make sure to tell him I love him every day, bring home his favorite game from the woods and let my actions do the talking for me. We make love almost every night.

I want to make today extra special for him. I wasn't planning on doing anything until I woke to a beautifully arranged tray of breakfast: eggs, jam and butter to accompany a fresh loaf of pumpkin bread, four mouth-watering cheese buns fresh from the oven with the cheese icing streaming from the top, a steaming mug of hot chocolate, a small bouquet of dandelions and a folded sheet of paper with my name on it in Peeta's neat handwriting. I reached for the sheet of paper and unfolded it to discover a letter that read:

Good morning, beautiful:

It was so hard to leave this bed today, when all that I want to do is spend the day here, with you. But you know this day is a special holiday and people are going to be buying cookies and other pastries fromthe bakery which will make it busy all day and things would be chaos without me there. I know, I'm rambling. I'll stop.

I can't help the smile creeping up my face while reading. It's so like him. I can almost hear his voice talking in my ear as I continue to read.

However, I did not want to leave you without a token that will – hopefully- leave you thinking about me all day. I made your favorite breakfast and my intention was to eat it with you, but it was so early and you looked so peaceful that I did not have the heart to disrupt your dreams by waking you up.

Enjoy it knowing that as you read this I am thinking about you. Closing time can't come fast enough so I can get home to you.

Happy anniversary.

I love you. Always

Peeta

It was so sweet and thoughtful, I was near tears when I finished reading. After I finished eating the delicious meal, I got dressed and went to put the dandelions on a small vase with water. I set the vase on the center of the mantle between two pictures of us we have on display there.

So now here I am, staring at the pictures and the flowers, hoping to draw inspiration out of them. I look at the first picture. It's from our Victory Tour: we are on the beach in District 4, our backs towards the camera as we stand facing the sea at sunset. Peeta's arm is around my waist and I rest my head on his shoulder. My hair was out of its usual braid, running down the back of my turquoise dress in soft waves, while his blond hair glows like gold in the orange sunset. I'm barefoot, my flats on dangling from my fingers. Peeta's shirt matches the color of my dress while his pants are black. He hadn't wanted to take his shoes off because of his prosthetic. We kept that picture because it was one of the few moments during the tour where we found a rare state of peace and contentment. And because the scars that mar our skin weren't there yet.

I direct my gaze to the other picture. This one is more recent, Haymitch took that one with the camera Peeta insisted we order from the Capitol (because after what happened to him with the hijacking, tangible reminders are important for him). The picture was taken soon after I admitted my feelings for Peeta. Haymitch sat at the kitchen table while Peeta tried to teach me how to make raisin nut bread. I was in front of a bowl with my hands buried in dough, trying to knead it; Peeta was behind me, head over my shoulder, his hands over mine, showing me how; the scars in our arms are visible because we were both wearing short sleeved shirts. In the photo, my head is turned toward Peeta and we're both laughing because in that moment the dough had emitted fart-like noises when we compressed the air bubbles. I didn't even know that Haymitch had the camera with him until after I saw the flash that indicated a photo being taken.

It's looking at this picture that I finally get the idea for my surprise for Peeta. After that day, he's taught more about baking and I sometimes help him out at the bakery. Yes, I know what I'm going to do and I'm sure he's going to love it. The first part of my plan is to bake a loaf of raisin nut bread, the same kind of bread Peeta tossed me that day in the rain all those years ago – I wonder if he even remembers what kind of bread it was. He brought some leftover loaves of bread home yesterday, but I know that I have to bake the loaf myself to make it special for him.

I pull out the Mellark's recipe book to make sure I don't make any mistakes. Then I get a couple of bowls along with the ingredients (luckily Peeta keeps our house as well stocked as the bakery itself): flour, white sugar, baking powder, baking soda, ground cinnamon, eggs, applesauce, butter, nuts and raisins.

The first thing I do is go over to the stove to melt the 3 tablespoons of the butter on a small pot and then chop 1 1/3 cup of walnuts into tiny pieces. Then I grease the loaf pan the way Peeta showed me. When that's ready, I take the first bowl and put in 2 cups of flour, 2/3 cup of white sugar, a tablespoon of baking powder, a half teaspoon of baking soda and 3/4 teaspoon of ground cinnamon and stir it to mix it all. In another bowl I beat together an egg, the melted butter and a cup of applesauce. When the second mixture is homogeneous, I pour it in it to the first bowl, little by little, mixing it carefully until is all combined. I sprinkle the chopped nuts and a cup of raisins into the batter and start kneading. When I have a dough consistent enough, I pull it out of the bowl and continue to knead it on the countertop.

When I'm satisfied with my dough, I carefully place it in the prepared loaf pan and cover it with a clean washcloth to let it rise until it's doubled in size. I set the oven to the right temperature and busy myself with cleaning the dishes and utensils I've dirtied along the way. When I finish straightening everything, the dough is almost doubled in size and ready to put on the oven. But before I do that, I decide to make the loaf into the shape of a heart.

I put the dough in the oven and set the timer to 45 minutes. In the meantime I decide to start making dinner; it would be weird if Peeta arrived home to find me waiting on him just with a heart-shaped loaf of bread, he would figure out my intention the second he walked through the door. I caught a rabbit yesterday, so I think I'll make a rabbit and veggies stew. This is another part of the surprise, because I usually wait so Peeta and I can make dinner together.

I go to the fridge and take out the already skinned and gutted rabbit, some potatoes, squash, a carrot, some peas, corn and dried plumbs (my favorite since I had them with lamb stew). I put water on a pot to boil and set about chopping everything: the rabbit meat, the potatoes, squash and carrot.

The oven timer buzzes and I pause in my task long enough to check on the bread. I poke a toothpick into the middle of the loaf and when it comes out completely clean, I know my bread is ready, so I turn off the oven and set the pan on the counter to cool and then I go back to my preparations for dinner. In no time, I have everything in the pot boiling on the stove.

A quick glance at the clock tells me I still have at least two hours until Peeta is set to arrive, so while the stew simmers, I go look for a white tablecloth to put on the kitchen table. Then I arrange to places at the table, facing each other, with our best dishes and silverware and crystal cups. I take a bottle of sweet red wine out of the pantry and set it at the center of the table beside the silver candelabra with two candles.

I check on the stew and decided is ready, so I turn off the stove and rush to the second floor to take a shower and ready myself. I have just one hour left. I shower quickly and after I dry off and apply the necessary cream to my marred skin, I wrap a towel around my body and go to rummage the contents of the closet. Since this is a special occasion, I'm thinking of wearing a dress. I have a small collection of sundresses and after looking through them all, I decide on the soft orange one - Peeta's favorite color - that clings to my waist and then flows down to just above my knees. It has a yellow ribbon as a decorative belt. I could have chosen the white dress, but I worry that it would have been more obvious than waiting him with just the heart-shaped loaf of bread.

I look out the window of our bedroom while pulling on a soft yellow cardigan and realize that the sun is almost gone. I hadn't even noticed the dimming of the light. I turn on the switch, slip on soft orange flats to match the dress and go over to my vanity to finish my hair and apply a little of make-up. After untangling the knots, I decide to leave my hair down, because I know Peeta likes it better that way. I keep the make-up to the minimum: a bit of mascara with no eye shadow, a tiny brush of blush on my cheeks and the ghost of pink lipstick on my lips.

When I get downstairs, the clock tells me that I have only a couple of minutes until Peeta will get home. He always comes in through the kitchen door, so I lock the front door to ensure that Haymitch won't enter and go around the house and turn off all the lights. I make sure to hide the bread I baked on the pantry – I don't want him to see it until the right moment - before lighting the candles on the candelabra on the table and turning off the lights on the kitchen too. Then I take my seat at the table to wait for him. My stomach is tight with nerves about what I have planned for tonight, what I want to happen. Luckily Haymitch knows what day it is and is unlikely to come over. Surely Peeta is going to go over there before coming home to leave him some bread to substitute for the dinner he's not having with us.

It's not long before I hear his uneven footsteps coming up the back steps, then a pause and I hear his voice, "Hey buddy. Staying out of trouble today?" I can picture him kneeling down and scratching Buttercup between the ears. "Good boy."

After a moment of silence I hear the handle jiggle a little and a second later Peeta is opening the door, squinting in the near darkness of the house. I stand from my chair.

"Katniss?" he calls out while his eyes adjust. He still hasn't seen me and starts asking something while looking around. "Where are you? Why are the lights…" he trails off, finally catching sight of me and the arrangement of the table, "… off," he finishes.

I smile and walk towards him. "Happy anniversary," I say, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning up on my toes to kiss him gently on the lips.

His arms wrap around me immediately and he responds to my kiss with tenderness. After a moment, we pull back and Peeta smiles at me, resting his forehead against mine. Then I watch as his eyes drift down my body and he chuckles softly.

"You're wearing a dress," he says in a somewhat amused tone. I can't help the heat that creeps up to my cheeks.

"It is a special occasion," I answer shyly, "So I thought I'd dress up."

"I love seeing you in a dress," he smiles. "And it's my favorite color, too."

"That's why I picked this one," I say, pecking him on the lips. "I made dinner, too, so please have a seat."

"I'll help you serve."

"No," I say, pushing him towards the table, "You treated me with a delicious breakfast this morning, so dinner is on me." I chide him playfully. He chuckles lightly and complies.

After I serve our meal, we eat and he tells me about his day on the bakery. It sounds like it was pure madness all day down there. He tells me about how his assistants baked batch after batch of heart-shaped cookies, because they were sold even before coming out of the ovens! The girls working in the storefront kept running to and from the kitchen to see if the orders of cookies were ready. Ben and Milena, his assistants, were kept busy preparing heart-shaped, single-tier cakes, while Peeta mixed frosting and decorated each one himself. There were so many, Peeta says he lost count!

And then he asks something that threatens to give my plan away. "Enough about me. How was your day?"

I'm not a good actress. I never have been, but that I have to pull this one out. "I ate your anniversary breakfast and went to the woods to catch the game for the stew. Then I came back to prepare for dinner and wait for you," I smile, hoping he can't tell that I'm hiding something.

He just smiles back and reaches across the table to place his hand on top of mine. "Dinner is delicious. Thank you."

I turn my hand over to take his and squeeze lightly. "I love you."

His smile widens. "I love you, too."

We finish eating and he stands to retrieve our dishes and take them to the sink. I put water to boil on the teapot to make some tea and then join Peeta at the sink. He washes and then hands them over for me to dry and put away. I'm getting more nervous with every passing minute; there's a swarm of butterflies fluttering around inside my stomach. When Peeta shuts off the tap and I put the last dish away I know I have to do this now, before I lose my nerve.

"It's getting a little chilly," I say as nonchalant as I can manage. "Why don't you start a fire while I make us tea? I'll catch up with you in a moment"

He nods and smiles, kissing my cheek gently before he exits the kitchen and goes to the living room. I immediately lock the kitchen door too to ensure we won't be disrupted.

As quickly as possible, I grab two mugs from the cupboard and place them on opposite sides of a tray. I put a few leaves of mint inside each mug and pour the water to them. Then, I go over to the pantry and retrieve my loaf of raisin nut bread and set it on the center of the tray, covering it with a clean white cloth before taking the tray in my hands and heading toward the living room.

He's sitting on the floor in front of the fire, staring absently at the flames. Seeing him there I know that what I'm about to do is the right thing right now.

A couple of years ago … hell, maybe even a month ago, the idea of marriage would have sent me into panic. Every time that Peeta has mentioned it in the past, I've snapped at him, so he stopped bringing it up. But today, I know for sure I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I don't need a toasting to know he is it for me. I'm doing this for him. It's what he wants, even if he won't say it to prevent upsetting me. This is the perfect anniversary gift for me to give to him.

He looks up at me as I kneel down beside him in front of the fire, a smile playing on his lips. I set the tray between us and he glances down at it curiously.

"What's this?" he raises an inquisitive eyebrow and points to the cloth-covered bread.

"I have another surprise for today." I say, blushing and looking away.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him reach for the dishcloth. I glance back at him just in time to see his eyes widen and his jaw go slack with surprise. He glances between me and the loaf of bread, an expression of pure disbelief on his face. I reach over and take his hand in mine and he finally locks eyes with me, his blue orbs watering. Tears of joy, I hope.

"Seven years ago, you burned this same kind of bread and tossed it to me. You saved my life on that rainy day and gave me hope. Now it's my turn to make bread and burn it for you."

At this point my voice has started to shake with emotion, but I take a deep breath and try to steady it, because what I'm about to ask is important.

"Peeta Mellark," I begin, my voice just above a whisper, "Will you marry me?" My own happy tears start to run down my cheeks.

He doesn't respond. Instead, his free hand comes to my face and before I can register what's happening, his lips are on mine and he's kissing me passionately, his tears mixing with mine. We pull away breathlessly and he rests his forehead against mine, panting.

"Is that a yes?" I ask

He chuckles lightly. "I've wanted to marry for as long as I can remember," he says and my heart swells. "Of course my answer is yes!"

I smile and kiss him again, but pull back before we get carried away. We can't stop smiling at each other. Peeta takes the loaf and breaks the heart is half, handing me one. We scoot closer to the fire and he takes my free hand in his, weaving our finger together. With our other hands we hold the bread up to the flames, letting it burn the edges. When the crust changes from golden to a dark brown we pull our hands back and turn to gaze into each other's eyes.

Peeta takes a deep breath; he will say his vows first. "Katniss Everdeen, I've dreamed about this moment all my life, imagining what I would say in this moment. But now, none of those rehearsed speeches seems good enough. I thought I loved you before, but if that was love, I don't know what this is because it is so much more that I have no words to describe it. You're beautiful, smart, brave, and strong. When the Capitol robbed me of my feelings for you, you were there to help me get them back and I got to fall for you all over again. I know you still hurt from your losses during the war, but I promise you that I'll be here for you every time you fall apart. I will hold you and help you get through it. And most importantly: I will love you for the rest of my life, always."

His voice never wavers, but all the while, tears of joy run down his face and I know I'm crying just like him. And now it's my turn to speak.

"Peeta Mellark, I'm not good with words, but I will try to express myself. I never imagined this moment because I never wanted to get married," he laughs a little at this. "I was so afraid of love. I still am, because I fear what will happen if I lose you. But it didn't matter how hard I fought against my feelings, you crept up into my heart and stayed there. I couldn't rip you out if I tried and I no longer want to. You've been here for me when I needed you. You've helped me heal. You make me feel like I can be whole again. This toasting is an expression of the love I have for you. I promise to spend every day for the rest of my life trying to make you feel just how much I love you."

We raise the bread to each other's mouths and take a bite at the same time, never breaking eye contact. Then Peeta takes the piece in my hand and puts it along with his back on the tray, sliding it away. He then takes my hand and gives me a tug. I move closer to him and position myself on his lap, straddling him. He wraps his arms around me, sighing as I lean in and kiss him. His tongue brushes my lips and I open my mouth to grant him entrance. The kiss is slow yet passionate. We're in no hurry; we have all the time in the world because we're not going anywhere. Here, in each other's arms, is where we belong.

"Is this really happening?" he asks, barely an inch away from my mouth, his lips brushing my own with every word. "You're really my wife now? Or am I dreaming?"

I kiss him softly on the lips and began to trail kisses along his jaw towards his ear. "It's real, Peeta." I whisper. "This is really happening. This is most definitely real." I finish biting down on his earlobe.

His arms tighten around me and he drags one of his hands up my back and into my hair. Peeta turns my head to him, so he can kiss me again and I gladly respond to his mouth. I twist the fingers of one hand in his golden curls while I run the other hand across his shoulder and down his chest, where I start to work on undoing the buttons of his shirt, never breaking away from his lips. Peeta sighs into the kiss when my fingers finally brush his bare skin.

His hands come up to caress my collarbones and he slowly begins to rid me of my cardigan just as I undo the last button of his shirt. His fingers brush my skin gently while he slides the piece of clothing down my arms and off of me. His touch ignites my whole being, setting my blood on fire. I know he's feeling the same; I can already feel him hardening, the sensation causing wet heat to pool between my legs.

After he removes the cardigan completely, it's my turn to reach up and slide Peeta's shirt off. As soon as the skin of his shoulder is bare, I lean in and kiss him there. He groans impatiently and I smirk against his skin, taking my time in removing the garment completely and trailing kisses across his chest to his other shoulder.

As soon as his hands are free, Peeta reaches up to my hair again, his fingers starting to massage my scalp. I mewl at the feelings his fingers' movements elicit as I feel his free hand come up my back to the zipper of my sundress, tugging it down.

"As much as I love seeing you on this dress," he whispers into my ear, "There's nothing I love more than taking it off of you."

I moan from his words and my hips buck into his erection, making him hiss and me moan again. When the zipper is all the way down, I pull back to look him in the eyes and lift my arms with a sly grin. Peeta smirks and reaches for the hem of the dress, lifting slowly and pulling over my head. I hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees I'm not wearing bra. I'm left only on my panties and flats.

"You're so beautiful," Peeta breathes, reaching up to cup my breasts.

I close my eyes and arch into his hands. My mounds fit perfectly in his palms. He squeezes and massages them gently and kisses my neck while embarrassing mewls and whimpers fall from my mouth. But all too soon, his hands are gone from my chest. I frown and whimper in protest, bucking against him.

Peeta groans low on his throat. "Patience, Mrs. Mellark," he exhales.

Opening my eyes, I smile and my breath is taken away when I see the intensity and love in his gaze. Peeta shifts me off his lap and then puts both hands on my back. Slowly, tenderly, he lowers me onto the rug in front of the fireplace of our living room. I put my hands around his waist and drag them up his scarred back towards his muscular shoulders. He shudders a little.

Once he's lowered me completely onto the rug, Peeta kisses me again on the lips. It's a slow, sensuous kiss, a delicious appetizer to what's to come. He rips his mouth from mine and trails his kisses down to my breasts. I gasp when his tongue flicks against one of my nipples and my hands come up to his hair to keep his head in place as his fingers pinch the tip of the other one. I tug his hair, panting in pleasure and he switches his mouth to my other breast. I let one of my hands wander down his spine causing him to release a moan against my skin, the rumbling sensation making me whimper. My hand stops when I reach the waistband of his pants.

"I think you're a little overdressed, Mr. Mellark," I pant.

When he lifts his head to look at me, I take the opportunity to push him off of me and onto his back. I take off my flats and then remove his shoes and socks. I straddle his legs and look down to him. Peeta's breathing is hard and ragged, his blue eyes hungry, dark with love and desire. My eyes rack down his sculpted chest, to his abdomen and follow the trail of dark blond hair until it disappears under the waistband of his trousers. The front of his pants are tented; he's more than ready to me. I make eye contact with him again and run my hands over him through his pants making him hiss. Very slowly, taking my time and reveling in the effect I have on him, I undo his belt, the button and slide the zipper open. Then I reach for the waistband of his pants and boxers alike and slide them down his legs. His erection springs free and he moans something that sounds like my name.

Once I remove the last of his clothes, I crawl back over him until my face is level with his groin. I take his hard length in my hand and begin to stroke him. Looking up I find darkened blue eyes staring at me in awe. Without breaking away from his gaze, I open my mouth and lower it onto him. Peeta gasps my name and throws his head back as I start to bob my head up and down, swirling my tongue around him with every upward pass. He's panting hard now, his hands balling into fists whenever I hum around him.

"Katniss," he lets out through gritted teeth, "Please stop. I don't want to come yet. I want to finish inside you. Please."

I let him out of my mouth with a soft pop and crawl over his body to kiss him on the lips. Once our mouths are locked together, our tongues fighting for dominance, Peeta flips us over so he's on top of me. I open my legs under him and his hips fall there, making me gasp when I feel him and effectively breaking the kiss. But Peeta doesn't seem to care, he just continues to kiss my neck down to my collarbones. He pauses to briefly kiss each of my breast before continue his path down my body, kissing and licking and nipping at the skin of my stomach. I'm writhing and squirming under the sensuous assault of his lips and tongue, his ministrations making me wetter and my need for him greater.

Peeta dips his tongue into my navel and swirls while sliding my underwear down my legs before moving his lips further south. He nuzzles the hair between my legs with his nose and then laps up my silt before circling my clit briefly before sucking it into his mouth.

"Peeta."

His name leaves my lips like a prayer and he hums in response, the sensation making my back bow off the floor and my hands clutch his hair to keep him there. With my bundle of nerves still in his mouth, one of his hands grips my hip and he inserts two finger of his free hand inside of me. He groans when he feels how wet I am for him. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of and my hips move at their own volition, rotating in time with the rhythm of this fingers and mouth as wanton sounds escape me.

It doesn't take long for me to feel the familiar coiling deep within my belly as the pleasure escalates. I'm all sensation. It's when Peeta lightly tugs my clit with his teeth that the coil unravels and I'm lost. I throw my head back, squeezing my eyes shut. My back lifts off the carpeted floor and my walls contract around his fingers as I come crying out Peeta's name. I stop feeling everything around me as my body is seized by wave after wave of pleasure.

Trying to catch my breath, I open my eyes to find Peeta's face smiling adoringly down at me. I smile dazedly in return, still basking on the effects of my orgasm. He leans down to kiss me again, lazily moving his lips against mine – I can taste myself on him - and moving to hover over me. I spread my legs and he settles his hips against mine. The feeling of his readiness at my opening makes me gasp and I ache with need all over again.

"Peeta, please," I whimper. "I need you."

He nods and kisses me softly one more time before moving his mouth towards my ear. "I love you, Mrs. Mellark," he whispers and with a swift movement of his hips he's inside me.

We moan in unison at the sensation of being joined this way. Peeta starts a slow, steady rhythm, in and out, in and out and I begin to move my hips to match his movements thrust by delicious thrust. He knows my body so well; he has studied it like a book and he's memorized everything about me, knowing exactly what to do to make me moan, squirm, mewl and whimper.

One of his hands finds my breast and tugs on my nipple, making me arch into him. His other hand travels down my body to find my clit and begins to rub, increasing the speed of his movements at the same time. I hold onto his beautiful, scarred, sweaty shoulders, digging my fingernails into his flesh as I feel the pleasure starting to coil once again. Peeta groans and speeds up, pounding into me frantically and I can tell he's close too.

Rubbing me harder and thrusting at a deliciously punishing rhythm he says, "Let go for me, Katniss. Let go."

His words send my flying. My walls constrict around him and I cry out, holding onto him for dear life as my orgasm washes over me even more intense than before. The feeling of my body gripping him seems to be enough to send him over the edge. He stills on top of me, burying his head on my shoulder and moaning my name as he empties himself into me. The feeling of his come inside me is unlike anything I've ever felt; it makes me feel marked at his. I love it.

He slumps over my body, still inside me and we both pant heavily as we come down from our highs; his weight helps anchor me to the earth. I pepper small kisses on his shoulder as our breaths even out. I can tell when he's somewhat recovered because he eases up and out of me, moving to lay beside me. I immediately move to him and drape an arm over his stomach and lay my head on his chest. His arms wrap around my frame and he lazily runs one hand up and down my back. I stare at the fire as we lie cuddled together and naked on our living room floor.

I hear him sigh after a while and then plant a kiss on my hair. I smile and kiss his chest. Oddly, I remember the mint tea I had prepared for us before all of this and try to stifle my laugh against his skin.

"What's so funny, Mrs. Mellark?" he asks, his tone amused.

"I was thinking that the tea must be cold by now."

He chuckles and then gets us both to a sitting position. He takes my face on his hands and kisses me tenderly before pulling back to look intently into my eyes. The intensity if his azure gaze making me blush.

"What?" I ask self-consciously.

"I want to give you something," he says, pecking me once more and letting go of my face. "I'll be right back."

He grabs his boxers, puts them on and stands, heading towards the stairs and to the second floor. I feel weird sitting alone and naked in the middle of our living room, so I snatch his shirt from the floor and pull it on. While buttoning the shirt, I listen to Peeta wandering around upstairs to see if I can guess what he's looking for. He seems to be in our bedroom, but for the life of me, I cannot imagine what he wants to give me.

Peeta comes back down the stairs a few minutes later, hiding something behind his back. He smiles adoringly at me and I beam back at him. He sits down beside me and hands me a small velvet box.

"I wanted to give this to you someday," he says, "The day I was going to propose you, but today you beat me to it and asked me to marry you. Go on, open it."

He smiles encouragingly and I open the tiny box with shaky fingers. There, resting on the padded interior of the box, are two gold bands, one a little bigger than the other. There's a small diamond in the smaller one and silver arches on both, that, when the rings are put together side by side, form the shape of a heart. I feel tears welling up in my eyes again and one of my hands flies up to cover my mouth. These rings are so beautiful, simple but elegant. And he wants them to be our wedding bands. Where did he get these?

"They were my grandparents' wedding rings," he answers my unspoken question. "My father gave them to me after we got back from our Victory Tour to give to you on our wedding day, since we were supposedly engaged back then. I could not tell him it was all a lie and we were going be forced to get married anyways, so I had them in my house and then brought them here when we moved in together with the hope of someday being able to give one to you and wear the other."

I listen to him enraptured. I love him so much in this moment. I can't believe there was a time when I denied or doubted my feelings for this man in front of me.

"May I?" he reaches for the box.

I nod eagerly, still unable to find my voice and hand the box back to him. Peeta beams and takes one of the rings out of the box, taking my left hand in his free one. He kisses my ring finger before sliding the band into place. I stare down at it a few seconds, all the while unable to wipe the grin off my face. Then I take his left hand and the ring and look into his eyes as I put the ring in place. We're both smiling at each other like idiots but we don't care.

I finally find my voice: "I love you, Peeta Mellark. Always."

He kisses me softly and says against my lips: "I love you, Katniss Mellark." My new last name sounds right coming out of his mouth, as if it was ever meant to be mine. "Always."

A/N: thanks for reading ;)... I hope you liked it... Please, review