This is a oneshot. It happens one night in Districh 13's bunker during the bombing of Capitol. I think Katniss own her mother something. My first HG fanfiction. Please review. :)
I don't own anything.
Like mother, like daughter
Like every night, I wait for everyone in the bunker to sink deeply in their sleeps, I pull out my precious pearl and feel it with my lips. I yearn for his lips and recall every times we kissed. Sometimes dry, sometimes hot with fever, sometimes salty with sweat, but always give me the feeling of steadiness. I miss him so much. I miss every night I spent with him, with his embrace. It was such a long time since my father's death I had felt such a warm feeling. My father. He always would tuck me and sing for me before dreams of beautiful meadow took me. My father. I chanted in the darkness. Dad… Peeta…Dad… Peeta. That's when a thought strikes me hard. I look up where my mother sleeps. For the first time I really understand my mother and then figure my own feeling. I need to do it right now, I know that. Trying hard not to wake Prim, I shake my mother's shoulder. How thin it is. She's so small. I recall the little girl who huged Maysilee Donner in that old video.
"Mom!" I whisper.
She opens her eyes. They seems so lost for a second and then turn to recognition.
"What's wrong, Katniss?"says my mother.
"I just want to talk. Can we?"
"Right now?" She looks around.
"Yes, right now. I need to talk to you." I say. I don't know if we have ever had a really conversation in all those years. I'm not good at talking anyway.
"Okay." She sits up and leaves me a place to sit next to her.
"I... I just want to say sorry." I hesitate. She seems a little surprise but waits for me to finish.
"I want to say sorry because I hated you for a long time. I hated you because you abandoned us, me and Prim after dad died. But... now, I understand. I really understand. I'm just like you... break apart every times I think that... I will never have a chance to see his eyes, his smile... to feel his arms again. That thought. It's really hurt. I'm so sorry for hating you. You just couldn't help it... I just can't help it." I says. My voice trembles and I try to say it quickly.
I still can see Peeta in my mind but I know just like my father's, time and darkness will gradually and brutally make it harder and harder to recall the real image. It will become blur someday and leave a hole in me. I can't help let out a sniff. My mother puts her arm around me. She doesn't say anything and when I look up, I just see a small woman who's deep in her own world – a world where a man with his sweet voice is waiting for her. I once hated her for being like this but now I, too, slip in my own world where I can really put Peeta somewhere he can't get hurt. We just sit like that for a long time then she gently rubs my shoulder.
"It's too late for me but you and Peeta still have chances. Don't give up. And when you have him back, just try hard to treasure him. It will be alright." She whispers.
I nod."Can I sleep with you tonigh?" I ask. And then we climb down to my place. She lets me sleep with my head on her leg. Her warmth make me cry. We are broken-heart-mother-and-daughter.