The scent of freshly baked bread filled the warm air of the bakery as sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting golden hues across the wooden countertops. It was quiet in the early hours, the calm before the inevitable rush of customers. The bakery, once just a dream, had become your sanctuary. Together, you and Peeta had built this life, one day at a time.

You were standing behind the counter, smoothing flour from your hands when Peeta came into view from the back room, wiping his hands on a cloth. His blue eyes met yours, and he flashed a soft, contented smile. There was a peace in his expression now that hadn’t been there before the war, something you’d both fought so hard to find.

“Everything’s looking good out here,” Peeta said, adjusting the trays of bread. “How’s the frosting going for the cakes?”

You glanced at the frosted cakes cooling on the side and gave him a playful grin. “Almost done. Just needed to finish this batch before we open up for the day.”

Peeta walked over, leaning against the counter, his gaze never leaving you. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

His voice was gentle, filled with that same warmth that always seemed to melt your heart, even after all this time. You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the words.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need you just as much. Who else would keep the ovens from overheating and the dough from falling flat?” You teased, reaching up to adjust the flour-dusted apron he wore.

Peeta chuckled, the sound rich and comforting. “Guess I’ll always have a job here then, huh?” He reached out, his hand finding yours, fingers gently intertwining as he looked at you with an expression of both love and gratitude. “I’m glad we have this… everything. I’m just… glad it’s with you.”

It was a simple life now, but it was yours. It was both of yours.