This Isn't Real.
A drabble.
FYI, I don't own THG or any of the characters. They belong to Suzanne Collins. Buuut… I would like to own Peeta… Hope he's on eBay.
KATNISS'S POV
We walked through the meadow. Peeta gripped a picnic basket in one hand and my hand in the other. This was another attempt of his to make me feel better.
But after Prim died, I just wasn't the same. I mean, I know Gale didn't drop the bomb on my sister… but he made those bombs with his bare hands. Nothing can ever make me forgive him.
But you can't hate someone as much as you used to love them.
Peeta picked a spot in a field of primroses, the beautiful flowers and the namesake of my equally beautiful sister. He spread out a blanket onto a grassy patch and motioned for me to join him. I smiled and sat down. He took out a few of his famous sweet glaze rolls, two plates, and some strawberry jelly. Peeta looked at me expectantly. We both knew.
We were in love, and nothing would change that.
I know this is real. Neither of us is faking it at this point. Coin is dead. Snow is dead. We have won the rebellion.
He looks at me, his blue eyes a little sad. "How're you feeling, Katniss?"
"Okay," I reply.
"Just okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, just okay," I respond.
"Look, Katniss, I know something's bothering you, and it's bothering me. I want to know what's on your mind."
"Peeta, I…"
"No. Look, Katniss, would you rather talk to me or to the doctors in the Capitol?"
"You, I guess…"
"Then talk."
We sat. I talked. He listened. For hours and hours, I finally spoke about everything.
I looked at him, just as the sun was setting.
"Look. It's your favorite color, Peeta. Orange, soft like the sunset…"
He gazed intently at me. "Oh, Katniss. This isn't real. Real or not real?"
I returned his stare. "Not real."
"I love you, Peeta."
"I love you, Katniss."
FIN.
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Bye!