Chapter 21

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Its been four years since Peeta has returned. Every once in a while we go for a picnic, and other days we go for a walk. Peeta goes to the bakery every Wednesday and sometimes I come with him.

Today I plan to take him to the lake and little concrete house my father showed me when I was little. I wonder if the mockingjays are still there? Everytime my father sang they would stop to listen grasping the tune to repeat it. It was beautiful. Some say that the same thing happens when I sing but I'm not too sure about that. Since Prim died I haven't really been singing. It hurts because the songs I know too well were her favorite. 

I wake up before Peeta so I head downstairs to make him the only breakfast I know how to make. Scrambled eggs and toast. He taught me how to scramble eggs a few weeks ago and I haven't been able to try on my own. I hope I don't mess up.

I finish making him breakfast and put it on a tray and set it in the counter. It looks pretty good. I hope he likes it. I walk up the stairs quietly and into our room. He is still peacfully asleep. I sit next to him and kiss his nose. When I pull back it twitches. I kiss it again and whisper his name in a sing-song kind of way. He rolls over and pulls the blanket up to his chin like a little kid. I get off the bed and walk over to the other side and kneel infront of him.

"Peeta," I whipser like a lulluby. He does nothing. "Peeta," I say a little louder. He starts to stir and rubs his eyes. For a minute I get a glimps of his beautiful blue eyes but then they snap shut. I move myself over so the sun isn't in his eyes. I kiss his forehead and he opens his eyes again. 

"Hey, " He says groggily, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Hey, " I say back,"I made you breakfast this morning." I announce.

He sits up. "Really?" He asks making sure he heard me correctly. 

"Yep, " I say nodding, "I made you what you taught me, scrambled eggs."

"Well since we're switching roles here, why don't you carry me downstairs?" He says holding his arms up in the air the way I do on a regular morning.

"Okay, " I say backing up, "Breakfast is as far as I go."

"Fine," He says and grabs my hand. I pull him up off the bed and into a hug. He kisses the top of my head. "Thank you in advance for breakfast." He says, his eyes smiling.

"I thought I kinda owed you, " I admit, "I mean after everything you've done for me."

"You've never owed me anything." Peeta says. "Now come one. I want to try this amazing breakfast you made me."

"I don't know if it will be amazing, " I say, "But it is breakfast." Peeta laughs and leads me down the stairs.

I put the plate of food in the mocrowave to heat it up some because I don't want it to be cold for Peeta. I take it out of the microwave when it beeps and set the plate infront of Peeta on the kitchen table. He stabs some egg onto his fork and shoves it into his mouth. After he finishes his first bite he motions me over. I come over and he waves me down like he has to tell me a secret.

I lean down and he whispers, "I think you should make breakfast more often."

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