"Tomorrow is your birthday. Real or not real?"
"Real."
Peeta turned his head to look at Katniss. "And we're going to spend it together. Real or not real?"
Katniss smiled, "Also real." In all honesty-which Katniss was trying to practice since... well, just since-she was really excited to spend the day with Peeta. In the weeks since they'd been home, the pair tried to maintain contact, but were aware of just how much they needed to fix-alone-before they could ever return to normal, as if normal was even possible. A day together would be good for them, both separately and together.
Recently, Peeta had made a habit of visiting her each day, always with some purpose. Today it was wondering if she needed anything from town, tomorrow it would be fertilizing or weeding the garden, the next day an excess of cheese buns because he only knew how to make five dozen at a time. Katniss hated to admit it, but she looked forward to these visits more each day, certainly more than she let on.
"Great," Peeta said as he returned her smile. "I'm looking forward to it. You sure you don't need anything from town?"
"Yes, Peeta. I'm sure. Tell Sae I said hello and if she has any potatoes I wouldn't mind them for dinner."
Greasy Sae was still cooking for Katniss, although now Katniss was able to contribute some. Today, she suggested potatoes. Other days, she contributed conversation-a story of what she had seen in the woods as she hunted and explored, or a memory of the days before she was the Mockingjay and everything became different. Sometimes she contributed only interest, realizing she must one day begin to cook for herself again. Sometimes she could spare just herself, giving her attention to Sae's old hands, the way they flew around the kitchen like birds. She did not know how to say "thank you" in any other way.
Peeta understood that Katniss was not demanding or expecting the potatoes, rather she was trying to help the old woman in a small way. "Will do," he said. "I have a few loaves of bread for her anyway. Yesterday was a hard day." He swallowed, shuddered, and closed his eyes, making the shimmery memory of yesterday come back into focus. On hard days, he told Haymitch to lock him inside, then he baked and painted until he was exhausted. When the memory subsided he asked, "Mind if I use your bathroom before I head out? It's a long walk on a full bladder."
"Sure, you know the way." She wanted to do something to let him know he was okay, that hard days were to be expected, but she could not. She did not know what to do. Peeta was good at all of that-Katniss never had been. Instead, she watched him walk away from her, as if her gaze could keep everything negative from attacking him.
The next day, Katniss did not wake up to the smell of Sae's breakfast cooking downstairs. Instead, she woke up to the light of the day coming through her window, lighting on a tray of food. She picked up the tray and took it over to the bed; on it was a cup of tea, a strange crescent-shaped roll that looked flaky but appetizing, a few berries, and a card she knew Peeta must have made. She could see his unique style in the drawing on the front-a single leaf of a katniss plant-and his strong, artistic script in the words. The front read, simply, "Happy Birthday." Inside he had written: "Now that I found you, I'll never go hungry, either. Celebrating the end of the Hunger Games, and the beginning of a new life. Always, Peeta."
She didn't remember ever telling him that story, but she had told Sae a couple of times. Peeta must have conspired with Sae on a plan for the day; there is no way she prepared this breakfast. This strange bread had Peeta baked into it, and she could even see his artful hand in the way the bread seemed wrapped around itself into a beautiful moon-shape. She picked it up and turned its golden surface over in her hands, squishing it with her fingers. She closed her eyes and smelled it: spectacular. She picked up a berry and put it in her mouth; it was sweet and perfect. Just as she was about to eat another, she heard a single, soft knock on the door and the familiar question she knew would come after it: "Katniss?" Peeta stepped quietly into the room, familiar and comforting. "You haven't tried it yet," he indicated the bread in her hand. "It's called a cross-awnt, I think. May I?" he asked, pointing toward the bed.
"Sure," she replied, glad to have him there. "A cross-awnt, huh? Funny name."
"I thought so too. But they're really good. Try it, Birthday Girl."
"It's so pretty, like a moon. I don't want to ruin it!"
"It's okay. I wrote it down. I can make more. Try it."
She broke a piece off and put it in her mouth. It was like a delicious buttery sponge, bread so light she felt like there was nothing to it. It was perfect. "It's amazing, Peeta. This is... so good. I might have a new favorite."
"I knew you'd like it. It took me months to figure out how to make them. I had one in the... Capital once and...well, I think I finally got it." The mention of the Capital was visibly hard on him. He needed to get out of the room for a minute, needed to get ahold of himself. "I'll let you finish, Katniss. Meet me downstairs, okay?"
She wanted him to stay but had to let him go. "Okay. And thank you. This is already a great birthday." Again, she watched him walk away as if her gaze could protect him.
She finished her breakfast and got herself ready. Although she didn't care much about clothes, even less now that Cinna was gone, she didn't know what they were doing...which could present a problem. She threw on some black pants and an emerald green t-shirt. Works for everything, right?
She found Peeta perching on the window sill, staring out at the street. It was a beautiful day and he was grateful; sunshine took the glimmer off of his memories. "Hey. That cross-awnt, that breakfast, was delicious. Thank you."
He turned to face her, and smiled. "I'm glad you liked it." He was back. "You look great. You always look great." He stuck his hand out and she walked to it, wrapping her fingers in his. This was what peace felt like. "Come on, we've got a big day ahead."
"What's the plan?"
"That's for me to know," he began, leading her out the door, "and you to experience. We're taking a walk first. Ready?"
"Ready." Katniss squeezed his hand in hers and they set off toward town.
On the walk they were mostly quiet. The day, the peace, was too lovely to spoil with their brokenness, their past, their ghosts.
Once they made it to town, Peeta led her around, visiting each person who was still there. He must have told them it was her birthday because they all wished her a happy one, the way they used to. These people had known her since the beginning, and there was comfort in that. In a world where so much had changed, Peeta knew this familiarity would be nice. Dr. Aurelius had told her, and she had told Peeta, about the importance of routine. This was his attempt. Katniss knew that, and wanted to thank him. She squeezed his hand again and put her other hand around their fists. He understood, "You're welcome," he said.
They made it slowly through town, Katniss collecting gifts along the way. A few greens here, a bunch of grapes there. Somewhere along the way, Peeta grabbed a basket he'd stashed as Katniss assembled what she now figured was their picnic. When they reached the end of town, Peeta led them away, leading Katniss to a place she used to know well-the open place in the fence. The woods. Peeta let go of her hand, realizing now that she should, could, lead them. She knew immediately where she wanted to go, heading straight for the cabin by the lake. This was the only place she would want to spend today, she realized. As she led the way, Peeta stopped her at a copse of trees, asking her to pause. He walked, without stealth as she expected, to a spot, retrieved something, and brought it to her. Her bow. He had stashed it there because he knew she would want it. He knew where they were going. He knew her. The realization hit her as she accepted the bow from his hands. "You've gotta get our lunch somehow, right?"
"Right." She felt more gratitude than she could express. She looked away from him under the guise of scanning the horizon for game, but really just needing to look away. Haymitch's words echoing in her head...She could live a thousand years... "You in the mood for anything?"
"Nah, Birthday Girl's choice."
He found a nearby stump and sat on it, content to watch his fierce Katniss exist completely in her element, in a peace he had some part in creating. She continued to look around, realizing she'd have to move if she really wanted to get anything worth eating-they were too open here, too exposed, Peeta's familiar tread too loud. Peeta saw her struggle with her desire to track something, and the obligation she felt to stay near him. After all, he was doing all of this for her. Eventually he whispered, "I'm gonna head on over to the cabin, okay? I'm too loud for all these creatures anyway. I'll meet you there."
"Peeta I don't want..."
"Hey, I'll meet you there!" He smiled, "Take all the time you need."
She watched him walk away until he disappeared into thick forest, and headed off. More like three thousand years, she thought.
After a couple of hours-longer than it took for her to actually hunt something, Peeta suspected-Katniss made it to the cabin. She brought with her a pheasant and a couple of squirrels. This, along with the food gathered from town, would make a veritable birthday feast. When she arrived, she found Peeta hard at work on a drawing, although he would not let her see it. She also found piles of herbs Peeta had collected for the meat-he must have been studying the plant book they'd worked so hard on. "Hey," she said, raising her kills, "I managed to find us a little something."
"Looks great, Katniss. I'll start a fire and let's get it roasting."
They busied themselves preparing the roast-starting a fire, preparing spits, rubbing herbs into the meat-and soon the smells of their lunch began to fill the cabin. Katniss, minding the meat and having nothing else to do, began talking. Dr. Aurelius said talking was good for her. She looked at Peeta as he drew, still hiding the work from her, "Peeta, why do you think they never tore down that fence? It didn't do the job years ago, and now we don't need it."
"I don't know. Never thought about it, I suppose." He furrowed his brow, looked at the drawing, made a small adjustment, and continued. "It's like before, the fence enclosed us. Kept us from going where we 'weren't supposed to.' It kept us in. But now... we can go anywhere, yet we still have it. Maybe now it's to keep things out, to protect us."
"Like what things?"
"Out there things," he replied. "Capital things."
"That's done now, Peeta."
He stopped drawing and looked at her, "Maybe out here that's true. But it's not done here." He pointed to his head, then moved his pencil-dirty hand to his chest, "And it's not done here."
Katniss understood him completely, and realized that, perhaps, she was the only one who really could. "That's why I'm like this, you know. Why I..."
"Why we, Katniss. Why webuild fences around us, around our hearts. To keep them out but keep ourselves in."
She knew it was true. Peeta had, once again, found the right words. "Yes," she whispered, looking into the fire. After a moment she said, "I think our lunch is done. Are you ready to eat?"
He glanced at the work in his hands, made a small adjustment or two, and said, "I'll set up our picnic. Sit down, Birthday Girl."
He placed a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace, grabbed her hand and led her to it; she sat quietly watching as he placed the meat and gathered goods on the blanket and sat down. They ate in a silence that was not uncomfortable, but peaceful.
"This is really good, Peeta. Thank you."
"No problem, Katniss. Thank YOU. For cooking," he paused. "For being you." He grabbed her hand and squeezed it briefly, "For watching out for me." His eyes began to glisten, "I'd be lost without you. You're amazing."
"Peeta, I..." She felt his words struggling against the fence around her heart. She did not know how to finish.
He smiled at her. "Happy birthday, Katniss. That's all. Emphasis on the 'happy.'"
She smiled back. They continued eating, speaking of simple, easy things like the weather and the food. When they were done, Peeta stood up quickly, grabbed Katniss' hand, and urged her up too. "C'mon. We're gonna take a walk. Close your eyes."
Katniss stiffened, "Peeta... I can't." The darkness, an unfamiliar path. It was for these reasons she had a fence in the first place.
"Yes, you can. I've got you." He squeezed her hand, "We watch out for each other, remember?" He put his other hand over her eyes and stood close behind her, almost hugging her to his chest. "I'm here," he said. Then he whispered in her ear, "You trust me, real or not real?"
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Real."
"Okay, then. Here we go, nice and slow." He made good on his word, staying close behind with his chest against her back. Her breathing eventually matched his, which calmed her, and they traveled slowly, Peeta speaking into her ear with quiet assurance. After a short while he said, "Okay, we're here." He slowly let his hand drop from her eyes as he stepped away from her. He wanted to see her reaction. "Open your eyes."
They were standing in a field of primroses.
"I've been coaxing these girls to grow for a while. There are more kinds here than at your house... I wanted to put some here, too. So she'd be with you even when you're out here."
Katniss looked around. The beautiful field around her was almost too much to believe. The primroses seemed to go on forever. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, then pulled him into a hug. "She's always with me." He squeezed her back tightly, gladly. "I love it. Thank you, Peeta."
They stood there, holding each other together for a while. Peeta was the first to move away. "I have another birthday surprise for you." He dug around in his pocket for a moment and pulled something tiny out, allowing it to dangle from the delicate silver chain to which it was now attached. It was the pearl he gave her. "I took it from your house yesterday, before I went to town. Had it made into a necklace."
"I was wondering what you were doing up there," she laughed. "It's beautiful. Thank you." He opened the tiny clasp, struggling a little, and put it around her neck. She looked down at it and touched the pearl softly. "Wow, it's beautiful. This is... Peeta, it's too much."
"Well I'm not done yet. One more thing. But it's in the cabin. Wanna head back?"
"There's more?"
"Yeah, just one more thing. C'mon... I'll race ya!" He took off running and laughing, knowing these few seconds would be the only time when he was winning. Her habit of watching him walk away, of wanting to protect him with her stare, got the best of her for a second, but she shook it off quickly. She caught up with him, and passed him soon after, laughing because, here, in a field of primroses, running with Peeta, she felt free. Unbound. Un-fenced.
Katniss got to the cabin first, like Peeta knew she would, and was looking at the drawing when he came in. She, of course, heard him enter and looked up. He asked, "Do you like it?"
She stared at the picture in her hands-a simple pencil drawing of Katniss and Prim, before the war, before the Games, and even before their father was gone. They were playing together at school, as they had so many times, holding each other's hands in a circle and singing the song older than Panem, "Ring around the roses, pocket full of posies..."
"I drew it from memory. I used to watch you two play. You were so beautiful-not just you but the two of you, together. I never had that with any of my brothers; I wanted so much to have what you two did." He paused. "I just hope I got it right. I was really struggling with Prim's dress, I can't remember it exactly and your hair was..."
"Peeta," she cut him off, "it's fantastic." She walked over to him. "You're fantastic. I don't deserve all this."
"Yes you do, Katniss," he replied, smiling and lightly touching her long braid. "You have to know that." He opened his arms and she stepped into them, "Let me in, Katniss. I'll help you keep all the bad things out. I'll try, anyway." He held her. She let him.
"I'll try, too Peeta."
He pressed his lips to the top of her head and whispered, "You're happy. Real or not real?"
"Real." She rose up and kissed his forehead. She let herself bask in the feeling, let it come out of her heart and through the chain link of the fence surrounding it. It had been a very long time.
Katniss stepped back and looked at the boy, no, the man in front of her, for that is what he'd become. She felt proud of how far they had both come; she was less scared about how far they still had to go. In the fence surrounding her heart, a hole began to open; Peeta began to crawl through.
