His little girl -our little girl- is so beautiful. Her precious brown hair bounces as she dances around the living room. She sings and her voice is so lovely. When she flashes me a smile I can't help but wonder how I could have ever not wanted her.
Our little boy sleeps against my chest. As I sit on the couch he buries his face in my neck and I stroke his soft blonde locks.
With my thoughts preoccupied my little girl sees him before I do.
"Daddy!" she shouts and goes bolting across the room and out the door. I stand up carefully as to not wake her brother, adjust him in my arms, and follow after her. My face lights up like it always does when Peeta comes home. He's getting older, as am I, but he still has such a youthful, innocent face.
My hear swells with pride as he bends down to embrace our daughter and then stand to swing her high above his head before holding her close. He gives her a series of kisses which make her giggle. I walk over and he greets our still sleeping son with a kiss before leaning in the greet me as well.
I am finally starting to allow myself to be happy. I've been plagued with guilt for far too long now.
