Author's Note / I know it's been long but I hope you guys enjoy this sequel. Thank you for reading! Don't forget to let me know what you think.
I am still not used to closing my eyes and just allowing my mom to braid my hair. It is still hard for me to focus on the soothing movements of her hands instead of the memories of the Arena that flash across my eyelids every time I close my eyes. But I'm working on it.
I'm working on a lot of things, actually.
I am working on figuring out a way to wake up Haymitch that doesn't include having to search him for knives and through a bucket of cold water on top of him. I am working on not being heartbroken every time Gale refuses to talk, or even look at me. I am working on making my fake smiles more convincing. I am working on trying not to think of the Capitol and President Snow too much. I am working on figuring out how the phone works, even if I can only call Cinna with it.
And until a couple of weeks ago, I was also working on my new home. Until Peeta kicked me out of the project, that is.
Our Toasting was perfect because it was just ours, but eventually the sun came out and we had to carry on with our lives. We had to go to separate houses when the sun came down and we eventually had to tell our parents that we had, in a way, eloped. They weren't thrilled, but they weren't surprised either.
After avoiding the subject for some weeks, Peeta and I finally talked about the Games. I told him about how I really thought I would never see him again, about how scared I had been, about what it felt like to shoot somebody. He told me about what it was like to watch me on television. I told him about the berries, and how I still woke up some times covered in sweat, regretting the lies I had said to come back home. We talked about the future too. We know that the Games aren't quite over, and that soon the Victory Tour will come around and I'll have to leave with Danny for a couple of weeks.
Parting from his side was something I was definitely not looking forward to. Peeta and I don't spend every night togethers, but in those we do the nightmares were kept at bay. The simple thought of spending weeks without his comfort, being eaten by guilt and attacked by memories while I sleep, tortures me.
So Haymitch offered us an alternative.
"Get married," he had said with a shrug. His voice was as flat as if he had just suggested for us to eat a donut or take a breath. "Get married before the Tour, the Capitol will be wrapped around your finger and they won't object to Peeta tagging along for the Tour. They love him anyway, and truth be told we could use the corny publicity sweetheart."
We grimaced, but after sharing one look we knew he was right. And we knew we were doing it too.
After that we had sat at my backyard, discussing a few details: the date, who to invite, and where we would live after we were formerly married. His home is actually Danny's, and I never once considered to kick Prim and my mother out so that we could have the house to ourselves. I don't even like the house at the Victor's Village, it's too white, and pure and it reminds me of everything I had to do to get it. What I really wanted was to move back to the Seam, to my home, but I knew the Capitol would never have it. So we settled on building a small cottage on my backyard. Enough to give us privacy.
The weeks went by quickly after that, Caesar Flickerman came all the way to Twelve to interview us. We revealed the wedding date and acted all mushy for the cameras, it was the first time we addressed the Capitol together. I hated it. But at the same time it was much easier to lie with Peeta's hand wrapped around mine. Gale stopped showing up at our spot on Sundays, but after seeing Rory and Posy running around well fed I figured he had changed his hunting schedule in order to avoid me. I could never get him to explain me why. It didn't matter though, I knew.
Effie and Cinna took care of the wedding plans, and I was free to focus on building the cottage with Peeta. Two weeks before the wedding though, he announced he was going to finish the project on his own, as his wedding present for me.
More than a present, to me it proved to be torture. I was forced to listen to my mother talking color palettes with Effie for hours, Prim went over the details of the ceremony at least ten times a day and I simply sat there, watching then take over my wedding. After a while I decided Haymitch was better company.
He drank, I read, we stayed quiet. It worked perfectly for both.
Three days before the wedding I asked him to give me away, he took a sip of his moonshine as a way of saying yes. We didn't talk about the wedding ever again.
My mom accidentally yanks a strand of my hair and I am brought back to the present abruptly.
"Sorry," she murmurs, her lips are tightly pressed together as she holds bobby pins in between them. I can feel some bobby pins pressing onto my scalp, and I try to get used to them, my mom used to braid my hair with her fingers and that was it. Even bobby pins were a luxury we couldn't afford.
"Don't worry," I reply my eyes falling on my reflection for the first time. My make up is already done, the soft tones on my face make me look beautiful, glowing and weak, it's all part of the Game we have going on with the Capitol. Nothing new. What really catches my eyes are the braids my mom finishes as I watch.
Cinna had happily agreed to allow my mother to do my hair –– as long as she promised to teach him how––, after all she had done it the day it all started, the day of the Reaping.
Much like with almost everything else regarding the wedding, I didn't make any requests about my hair, I simply sat down and allowed my mom to style it as she wished. She outdid herself.
My long hair is in two intricate braids, each one falling on one side of my face. Danny's voice echoes in my head, retelling the story of the day Peeta allegedly fell in love with me; the plaid dress, the two braids.
To make them even more perfect, my mother had braided dandelions on both of them.
Before I know what is going on, my eyes tear up. I'm not usually one to get emotional over this kind of stuff, but I guess I am allowed to on my wedding day.
"It's perfect mom," I compliment and she tears up too. Both of us look away from the mirror, trying to blink away the tears to prevent our makeup from being ruined.
The dress is perfect, and even more than that. But I didn't expect less from Cinna.
Delicate and elegant, the dress seems to be made of dandelion seeds. As I twirl I half expect it to blow away with the wind, but it doesn't. It doesn't have a veil –– as I had strongly refused to wear one, making it one of the few decisions I took about the wedding –– but the tail is huge. It spreads to cover almost a quarter of the room we are in, embroidered yellow dandelion flowers strategically scattered on the tail make my breath get caught in my throat, the tears threaten to fill my eyes again, but Cinna makes faces on the mirror and I just have to laugh.
"Peeta sends this," he says moments later, when there is no more waterworks threats. From behind some spare fabric he materialises a bouquet of wildflowers, the fresh dandelions tied with a white ribbon.
My eyes are focused on the perfect balance of colours in the bouquet, I turn it around to admire it from every single direction, and then my thoughts are interrupted by an awkward throat clearing in the door.
Haymitch –– looking obviously uncomfortable on his tuxedo, but also kind of happy –– motions with his head towards the door. "It's time, sweetheart. You don't want to keep them waiting, do you?"
We went through the complicated protocol a million times. We agreed to have a Capitol wedding in order to please the audience, but one of my other requests was to have everything supplied by District 12 vendors. If I was going to spend a fortune on this wedding, at least I wanted the money to stay in my District.
The Meadow is gorgeous, and I seriously doubt all of the wildflowers adorning it were grown naturally, but I don't overthink it. I focus on the harmonious sounds of the string quartet that gets together on Sundays to play at the Town Square. I focus on Danny and Prim, who are walking together down the aisle. Danny carries the rings proudly and Prim tosses flower petals and smiles to the guests.
I try not to think of the almost two thousand people reunited. I was skeptical about them all fitting in the Meadow, but Effie made it work. Everyone in the district was invited, but the majority gracefully rejected the offer. I know that if it hadn't been my wedding I would have refused to go too. Why spend my day pretending to get along with the Capitol? I still made sure that everyone in the District would get cake.
I try not to think of the empty chair on the second row, Hazelle Hawthorne smiles sadly at me as I walk down the aisle. My eyes focus on hers for a moment, but even when I can see the resemblance they don't feel like Gale's.
Haymitch squeezes my arm and I look up to him, he is smiling so I smile back.
"This is my stop, sweetheart," he whispers, his feet stop moving and I look down at the aisle, at the few steps I have to take on my own. "Don't trip," he reminds me and I roll my eyes.
That's the moment I choose to finally look up and search for Peeta with my eyes. He is wearing a tailored black suit, something he had never worn until now. It fits him perfectly, bringing out the blue in his eyes, which are now glistening with tears of happiness. His lips are curved in a loving smile and I want to run towards him. But I know Effie will probably jump at my throat if I do.
So I walk towards him, only slightly faster than I should have, and we join our hands as the minister starts speaking.
The ceremony happens in a blur. Before I know it we are exchanging rings and the minister is asking me to speak my votes. I turn around and Prim hands me a wrinkled paper in which I scribbled them, I clear my throat and focus my eyes on Peeta's. I try not to think about the cameras, about the fact that the whole country is most likely sitting down and watching this on their televisions.
I pretend for a second that we are back at the bakery, just the two of us, with the smell of bread toasting surrounding us.
"I am not as good with words as you are, but I can be honest. I can always be honest with you. And that's why I vow to always be loyal to you, Peeta Mellark. I vow to apologise every morning after I steal the covers, even though you know it's not my fault." He snorts and I smile, sneaking a look at my notes before continuing. "I vow to always be with you, in sickness and health. I vow to always laugh at your jokes, even when you've told them before. I vow to always be your best friend, your lover, because there is no one else I'd want to be with for as long as I live. And finally," I clear my throat, one tear streaming down my cheek as I ready myself to finish. His usually steady hand trembles as he wipes it away. "I vow to always love you, even when you make me angry, even when we are apart, even when it is hard. Getting rid of me won't be easy, Peeta, I promise that too."
He smiles and I blindly return the paper to Prim, not tearing my eyes off him. The minister invites him to say his vows and he stays silent for a second, as if searching for his words. I can count with one hand the times he's been speechless. But before I can sing victory, he speaks. He doesn't even have a paper with notes, the smug bastard.
"I vow to always take care of you, Katniss Everdeen, even when you insist you don't need me to, even when I know you don't need me to. I vow to bring you breakfast in bed, and bake you cheesebuns. I vow to give you space when you need it, and to erase it when you need me. I vow to agree to disagree on red velvet cake," it was my turn to chuckle and more tears fall down my cheeks. His hand is now steady against my skin. "I vow to always catch your tears, and to do my damn best not to cause them. I vow to be honest, wholesome and brave. But mostly, I vow to always love you too, no matter what."
Cinna's dress proves to be magnificent all over again. Somehow he tucks in the voluptuous tail, allowing me to move through the wedding guests easily, running away from unwanted conversations and pulling Peeta with me. By the time the food comes I can't remember a single name of the people I have spoken with. I know that President Snow is here, and so are some of my fellow Victors, but I have avoided them so far.
After the feast ends, my final two requests are honored. First, the cake. I insisted on Danny and Peeta decorating the cake together. It felt important and kind of obvious too. I had always known that Peeta wanted to get married, that he wanted to have kids. But he knew too that I didn't want any of that. Maybe marriage I wouldn't have opposed to, but kids were (and still are) a big no in my books. If Danny hadn't been reaped, if I hadn't volunteered to go into that Arena with him, I wonder how differently things would have gone between us.
I shake those thoughts from my head, it does no good to dwell on 'what if's. So instead I focus on the huge cake in front of me, the sugary dandelions adorning it beautifully. Peeta hands me a knife and we cut the cake together, feeding each other small bites of it as the crowd cheers.
Peeta walks me to the dancing floor, my last request taking place. Because even when, thanks to Effie, I have become sort of a reluctant expert in waltzing, I didn't want to dance to Capitol music on my wedding. I have given up so much already, I simply wanted to dance to the same music I had grown up with. Dance the steps Prim and I had rehearsed over and over on our small living room, bumping our toes against the furniture and laughing until our stomachs hurt.
And so Peeta and I dance, the live band playing the familiar music and soon the rest of the guests from District 12 join us on the dance floor. The laughter and feet tapping on the wooden floor they set in the middle of the Meadow for the occasion echo in my head. When I close my eyes I see nothing but the red spots of the twinkling lights that hang around the party.
Everything feels right. For a fleeting moment I can almost pretend that everything is right.
But it's not.