I sat on the window seal of my home in the Victor's Village, gazing up at the moon in the sky, illuminated with stars. It was quiet. Merely the sound of crickets chirping in the grass. From where I perched, I could see warm lights engulfing the homes circling the square.
"Not skipping out on me, are you?" Peeta's soft voice me brings me back to reality.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see him. Blonde, broad shouldered, with eyes are blue as the ocean and just as deep. Peeta shoves his hands in his pockets and leans on the door frame, neither in nor invading my peace of mind.
"Don't be ridiculous," I whisper, smiling as he watches me curiously as if expecting me to vanish into the night. Into the woods with nothing but my father's hunting jacket and bow.
"I brought you something." Peeta says simply, retrieving from his back a white box. Larger than a shoe box but requiring two hands.
"You shouldn't have." I scolded, jumping down from the window and strolling toward him. We met in the middle of the room. He held the box at arm's length.
"It's from Portia." He whispered. I tense. In the chaos of the rebellion I'd completely forgotten about Peeta's stylist who'd accompanied us and Cinna to the Games and frequently dinner in the penthouse.
Peeta must have seen the worry flicker across my face cause he added, "She's fine, living in District two." I stood there speechless, staring down at the box in his delicate hands. Peeta offered it to me and I accepted. Hesitantly, I walked over to the bed and lightly placed the box on the edge. Wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans, I turned around.
Expecting Peeta to be standing before me, as he was. But I was alone. My heart sank a little. Unable to resist, my fingers brushed against the white box. I lifted the lid and gazed down at a silky white gown, the bust embellished with a simple yet elegant strand of pearls. The design was similar to Cinna's but less extravagant. Touching the material, I gasped and my heart fluttered.
Standing in the doorway in the white gown, I fiddled with my braid. Anxiously awaiting. Sighing, I snatched the hair tie from the braid and shook out my curls. They fell to my shoulders. Calming myself, I hitched up the skirt and descended the stairs. But it was not Peeta who stood at the bottom, but Haymitch. His messy brown tassels were slicked back and he was wearing a white suit.
"You're giving me away?" I gawked, standing in the foyer now. The front door was open and a cool breeze wafted it, ruffling my hair.
"Like it or not sweetheart." He shrugged. A smile playing on the corner of his mouth. He held out his arm and faced the door. Against my better judgement, I clasped mine around his. We strolled through the front door into the starry night. Haymitch and I walked in silence. Questions were firing in the back of my mind but I couldn't find the words. Instead my mouth opened and closed several times in the following five minutes. Finally he spoke.
"Your mother's not coming, Katniss." Haymitch sighed. His voice weighed heavy and I could tell it pained him to say such a thing. My last flicker of hope dwindled inside me, merely an ember in the fire that once was. "She asked me send photos, though." Haymitch added and my fire sparked to life a little more.
"I know." I sighed, clutching his arm as we rounded the corner into the square. I could hear hushed voices and careful steps in the dark. My breathing quickened. "He ceases to surprise me." I whispered, thinking of Peeta.
"If he'd had waited till you were ready, he'd have waited forever." Haymitch said simply. It was true.
Suddenly a thought occurred. He'd told me once that I could live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve him. As we walked through the near darkness, I scolded myself knowing it was true too. Peeta was gentle, compassionate. A soul of pure benevolence.
"This is my stop." Haymitch says suddenly and releases his gasp on me. Stunned, I gazed at him. His face illuminated by the moonlight. Silently he kissed my forehead and ushered me forward. I stepped into the darkened square.
And my some miracle, lights switched on, bathing me in warm glow. There in the square stood the familiar faces of District 12, people I'd known my whole life and a few unexpected faces too. Greasy Sae. Joanna Mason. President Paylor. Beetee. Cressida and Pollux. Flavius, Octavia and Venia. Delly and finally Effie. They stand before me in the square, smiling, clapping, whistling.
I blush and cover my face in my hands, unable to control the delight welling up inside me and bursting in tears. Wiping them away, I glance over my shoulder at Haymitch who smiles and simply gives me a thumbs up. I laugh out loud and walk down the cobblestone.
Eyeing the crowd, I find the faces of my family. But I search for one pair of blue eyes in particular. Peeta stands at the alter in a white suit, his hands clasped in front of him. Blushing, I rubbed the sides of my dress with my nervous hands and step before him.
The ceremony was quick but the sounds of the people cheering fade to silence as I gazed at Peeta, unable to suffocate my immense joy. Finally, words register into my brain: "Present a token to the bride." Slowly, Peeta retrieves a white box from his breast pocket. As he opens it, I gazed awestruck at a white pearl. But not just any white pearl. The pearl Peeta found on the beach. I gasped, crying again. Peeta laughs and slides the pearl ring onto my left hand finger. Shock and awe overcome me and I stand speechless.
Suddenly, Peeta lifts me in the air, I laugh as I gaze down at him, my curls bouncing in his face now. Craning my neck, I kiss him, slowly and surely. And in that moment, all is right in the world.
In the quiet of the night, Peeta and I escape the crowd in the square, sneaking off as they enjoy the merriment. Running through the alleys of the Victor's Village, I can't stifle my laughter as Peeta carries my train. Halting at the front door, I open it and we buckle inside.
Breathing heavy, I close the door behind me and gaze at Peeta, unable to contain my hunger. Peeta blushes under my gaze and holds out his hand. Anxiously, I place my palm in his and quietly we stroll up the staircase and into my bedroom. Silence.
Peeta closes the door behind us and I stand nervously in the room, my back to him but facing the double bed before me. My stomach back flips. My hands tingle. Peeta steps into the room and I see his shadow on the wooden floor. Hesitantly, he unzips my gown. His delicate fingers brushing against my skin. I shudder. Sparks escalating up my spine. Turning slowly, I slip my feet from the shoes and smile up at Peeta, brushing the blonde hair from his eyes. Hands trembling, I unbutton his white shirt and press my hand on curves of his bare chest. He inhales sharply, under my cool touch.
I turn my back to him and fall out of the gown. The material piling at my feet. Clutching myself, I slip into bed, pulling the thin sheet to my neck. I watch as Peeta undresses. His clothes falling to the floor. He slips under the sheets too in his underwear and pulls me close.
Suddenly, I'm sheltered in his warm familiar arms. I sigh, snuggling up next to him. I peck his chin as he gazes off into the distance. Clutching his cheek, I kiss him on the lips and succumb to the hunger gnawing at my insides, reminiscing about the beach. His arms tighten around me as he kisses me for what feels like the first time.
In the near darkness, Peeta whispers to me. "You love me. Real or not real?"
"Real." I whisper back and arch my neck, my lips finally finding his.
I wake under a blue sky, freckled in white clouds. We lay in the Meadow, a field of tall green grass. Sighing, I stretch and feel Peeta's arm.
"Not falling asleep on me, Mrs. Mellark?" Peeta whispers, kissing my hair. Squinting through the sunlight, I gaze up at him and smile.
"Under such beautiful blue eyes," I whisper back, "Never." Peeta chuckles quietly and gazes into the distance. A breeze ruffles my hair and I shiver a little. Peeta's attention fixates on me. "Kiss me." I demand. Peeta's head jerks back slightly.
"What no please?" He asks curiously? No, I shake my head, unable to hide my smile. Peeta chuckles and presses his lips against mine, softly, slowly. Eagerly, I press my hand to his chest. His hand takes mine. Releasing my lips, his face lingers and mine then pulls my hand to his lips and kisses my pearl ring.
Suddenly I hear a girly squeal. Peeta sighs, "That was fun while it lasted." He smiles.
Together we glance over. Standing before us is a toddler, watching us curiously. Less than three feet tall, wearing a yellow sun dress and clutching a fistful of primrose. Peeta unwinds his arm from around me and welcomes the child. Gleefully, he jumps into his arms, waving the flowers around. Peeta tickles her and she emits a joyous laughter. Bouncing around, she tucks herself into the space between our hips and snuggles up to me.
Bursting with pride, I gaze at my daughter who is the spitting image of her father. Bright blonde hair with curls like mine. Big blue eyes as deep as Peeta's. The same button nose and pink lips. Even her tiny hands resembled his delicate strong ones. She holds the primrose to my nose and I instinctively think of Prim. Peeta notices. He notices my every blink, every blush, every scorn with his wandering eyes. He plays with his hair, wrapping it around his finger.
Suddenly, she presses her pudgy hand on my stomach. Peeta watches her curiously, eyes shifting from her to me and back again. But before he could utter the words rattling in his mind and on the tip of his tongue…
"Aria!" A girl calls. I glance over at Aurora. She too looks like Peeta but with my distinctive dark roots and brown eyes. In her arms she holds a brown baby hare. Aria gasps in awe and jumps up from her seat between us. She toddles over to her sister as together they play with the animal.
"Something tells me Aria knows something I don't…" Peeta muses, holding me again. I sigh, gazing at me. Suddenly, Peeta turns to me with shock and awe drawn across his face. His brow wrinkled in worry lines and flickers of hope dancing in his eyes.
"I think it's a boy." I smile, bringing his hand to my stomach as Aria did. There's a tiny stir under our hands. Peeta freezes with immense joy.
"A boy…" He whispers, gazing off into the distance again. He laughs and kisses me again.
I wasn't sure how long we laid there in each other's arms. Hours, months, decades…But in that time there were no more Hunger Games. Every child in the districts were safe and tranquility was restored in Panem.