Sunlight is streaming through the green treetops, birds are chirping, the world seems wonderful. How can nature be so oblivious to what happened? How can everything go on as if nothing had happened at all?
"Annie. Annie. Annie, come on," it's Katniss. She has me by the arm and is tugging on me gently, but I don't budge. I'm sitting on my knees in front of the hole that is slowly being filled with dirt by various young men who had volunteered.
I have one hand on my stomach. The bulge isn't even noticeable yet, but if I focus hard enough I can almost feel the little one inside of me. Right now, it seems like the only piece of Finnick I have left is right here, right inside of me.
"Annie..," she whispers, more gently. Peeta is behind her now, taking her wrist and drawing her away from me. I don't really notice she's gone until the sun is going down and the men are done filling the grave.
"Mrs. Odair, it's getting late. Can we escort you back to your home?" one of them asks me. I look up at him, staring straight through him. He seems unnerved and simply walks past me, followed by the rest of the group...all but one.
"It's hard, isn't it?" he asks, sitting down beside me with his legs crossed. I see him from the corner of my eye but I don't immediately respond. "I know that. It feels like he's gone, but he's not."
"How do you figure?" I ask. I don't sound like myself. I sound like I'm a thousand miles away, whispering to the wind.
"Close your eyes, Annie," he says quietly, reaching over and gently taking my hand.
I turn my head to stare at him in confusion. He shakes his head, holding a finger to his lips before extending the same hand and brushing his fingertips over my eyes, forcing me to lower my eyelids.
"Think of him," he says quietly. It requires no further explanation. I do as instructed.
I see every feature of him against my closed eyelids: his bronze hair, his sea green eyes, his muscular form. How did I ever earn the love of such a man?
Then, the memories start...
I'm out at the docks, staring over the sea. He's behind me, one arm around my waist and his chin against my shoulder. It's before the Reaping, the year he went to the Games. He's telling me that if he goes, he'll come back. He'll come back for me. He's telling me I'm the reason he sees a point in life. He's telling me he loves me.
There we are again, this time out on the sea. It's after the Reaping of the 70th Hunger Games. I'm in tears. I don't want to go. I don't want to go. That's all I can think. But he's there. He's in the boat across from me, holding my hands. He's telling me I can do it. He's telling me I can beat this. He's telling me he loves me.
And again, at our wedding. We're holding each other so tightly that one couldn't slide a piece of paper between us. His lips are against mine and I'm feeling clear headed and wonderful and completely away from the world. Amid everything that was happening, he could still make me feel that way. He's telling me he's so happy to have me. He's telling me I'm his soul mate. He's telling me he loves me.
I don't realize it, but tears are streaming down my cheeks by the time I break away from the thoughts and open my eyes again. I'm a little angry, wondering what the point in the exercise was; to make me cry? I didn't need help with that.
"Did you feel it?" he whispers to me.
"Feel what?" I ask quietly, my voice shaking as more tears pour down my cheeks.
"You know what, Annie," he leans over and kisses my forehead, then stands up. "Try to head inside before it gets too cold, alright?"
I nod numbly, closing my eyes again. I hear Peeta's footsteps as he wanders away from me, and think back to his words. "You know what, Annie."
I do know.
"True love never dies," I whisper to myself, and allow more tears to flow.