Disclaimer: I don't not own The Hunger Games. Thanks so much for the reviews guys. 3 They really make my day.

And yet another dreary day at the bakery passes before Peeta Mellark decided to put his foot down.

Peeta's POV

The oven was roaring with a perfectly shaped set of multi-grain challah rolls and Roper, my assistant, had apprenticed for such an amount of time so that I felt comfortable enough abandoning the counter to greet Delly.

In all honesty, after a long succession of vapid, doe-eyed warriors for the reproductive cause and far too many attempts at trying to get into my apron, I decided to forgo all romance until I could sort out my emotions. Katniss Everdeen was not girl on fire; no, she was an ice queen with a heart of frosted glass. Her cold and unforgiving shoulder had turned me frigid and my only solution to the heart-shattered riddle and lovely torment that was Katniss Everdeen was to defrost myself with the searing heat of post-apocalyptic lust.

Of course, these things never last, and I began to find that these girls wanted relationships that I could not provide. So I confined myself to the bakery—threw myself into my work—and hired a male companion to aide me in said work. Roper was a fast-learner and would endless lend an ear to my Everdeen-induced lamentations.

And then along came Delly Cartwright, or, rather, the recognition of Delly. She was love and she was sunshine. She smiled of her own accord. She was friendly and lovable, and she possessed a pre-Panem classic appearance of glamour: voluptuous, blonde, and absolutely charming.

It had been six months.

"Peeta," she breathed excitedly in my ear as we embraced shamelessly in the bakery. Our love was no longer the object of shock and gossip; in fact, in confidence, many had relayed that the relationship between Delly and me was much more beneficial than that of the crass bombshell rebel headcase that had plagued me so endlessly.

"Delly," I answered, holding her close to me. With only the only the slightest pang of guilt, I compare this touch to the one I shared three years ago. Sure, this is warmer, softer, better perhaps… but was this more satisfying than the last?

She holds me at length now, but still close enough so that I can smell her bright and airy floral scent. "I'm so glad to see you today."

My hands slide from her waist to her cheeks as I plant a kiss on the top of her head. "Me too. Do you want to go home? Roper is doing an excellent job."

She hears the intent in my voice and not even thirty seconds have passed when I'm out the door with Delly on my arm.