Chapter 1: Another Average Picnic… Not

We're living together, and we're happy.

Well, as happy as we can be, really. With everything that we've been through, it's hard to know if what I'm feeling is actually happiness or not. Sometimes I wonder whether I've ever felt happy before in my life. If I ever did, it must have been during the days my father was still alive. And Prim. Prim.

Thinking of her still hurts. It's been a year, maybe two years, since her death. And it feels surreal, because the pain always hits me like a wrecking ball, as if it happened only yesterday. And maybe it did; it's hard to keep record of the passing days. Especially without the annual countdown for the Hunger Games.

Today is a sunny day, and a weekend. So Peeta suggested that we go on a picnic. We do that quite a lot these days; he likes the smell of fresh air, and seeing the green trees and colorful flowers and nature. He was amazed the first time I took him to the Meadow, outside the fence –which was removed some time last year-, and nowadays we have most of our picnics over here.

I can never forgive Gale, ever. But that doesn't mean that I don't miss him, because, surprisingly, I do. Especially when Peeta and I go on our picnics. This was the place where Gale and I used to hunt together almost every day before I went to the Hunger Games, before all was ruined. I try as hard as I can to hide it. But I'm fairly sure Peeta knows. And I have a sneaky suspicion that that's the reason he chooses to have most of our picnics here. Peeta doesn't believe that it was Gale's fault that Prim died. He doesn't say it, but I know. Because he has such a kind, forgiving heart. He even voted against making the Capitol children go to the very last Hunger Games, a choice of his that I still don't understand.

I notice, now, that Peeta is acting strangely. When we were talking about his friends' newborn son, whose name is William, and I said that the name has a nice ring to it, he stuttered and went red all over. Other than that, he just seemed to have his mind somewhere far away. He did that sometimes when he debated what kind of cake to make. This is getting annoying.

"Peeta, are you alright? You're acting a bit strange today."

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing," he answers. But I'm not satisfied with his answer, and I tell him as much.

He hesitates a little, then says, "I proposed to you, once upon a time. Even if it was fake. Real or not real?"

I stare at him. "Real," I answer, remembering.

"We pretended to be married. Do you consider that we still are?" he asks curiously.

I think about it. I never thought of us as a married couple, even when we were pretending to be. And I wonder why Peeta is asking questions like that all of a sudden. He can't be…

I shake my head slowly.

Then Peeta takes a deep breath.

"From what I remember, Katniss, I've been in love with you since we were five years old. Real or not real? Don't answer that. I know it's real. And now, after so many years I still am; but the difference is: now you love me back. That is something I would've never thought was possible before… before the Games. When we went there together, I made my mind since day one that you would be the one to live, that I would try my best to always be your guardian. So that after I died, even if you couldn't love me, I would be memorable to you. That was enough for me. But now, here we are, you and I. You love me. My biggest wish coming true. Every single day that I wake up next to you is a day I am thankful for. You ask me, sometimes, why I reach across the bed every morning and touch your hand: it is to make sure that you are there, and real. That this has not been some cruel dream that the Capitol had inserted in my mind to torture me when I wake up. You are the best hunter I know. And it is like you shot an arrow of love, and it hit me straight in the heart."

We stare at each other for a few moments, and I'm tearing up.

He clears his throat, then continues, producing a small box from his jacket pocket, "Therefore: Katniss Everdeen, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

He opens the box, and it has the most beautiful ring I have ever seen. With small diamonds spiraling up into one big, red diamond.

I look into his endless, blue eyes, and it's as if I dived into a sea of memories: our first kiss in the cave, my kiss with Gale, my and Peeta's fake marriage, Peeta saying that I'm pregnant in hopes of canceling the 75th Hunger Games, our days in the rebellion when he thought I was an enemy, the times I get nightmares and the way he's always there to hold just like I'm always there when he gets one of his painful episodes. Then I remember the way my parents used to look at each other, as if they were the only stars in the sky. Finally, I remember Haymitch saying, "You could live a hundred lives and not deserve him."

I may not deserve him, but I still love him.

"Yes," I breathe, "Yes, I love you, and I will marry you."

Peeta exhales, then holds me tight in his strong arms and whispers, "I love you, too. Thank you. I love you."

We stay like this for a while. This time, I am sure that I am happy.