she's curled in a ball in their bed,
her dark hair falling in curtains around her face,
eyes somewhere far away
but he can find her there.
he breathes gentle words in her ear,
rubbing her stomach,
whispering what a good mother she'll be.
he brushes the hair out of her eyes and
she's scared.
she trembles and quakes but he is there to ground her.
and on that day,
when her face glistens from the sweat of a thousand hours,
his whisper is in her ear
of her strength
and her love
and her bravery
and her face is contorted with pain
but she focuses on his words,
just the soft sound of his raspy voice
and she is home
and before she knows it
a tiny body is laying across her chest
wailing to make its presence known
and the air is so thick with tears of utter joy
and relief after all the days locked in her closet
that she barely hears the words
"it's a girl,"
barely feels Peeta's lips on her forehead,
her lips.
her eyes are set on this tiny creature that they created,
together,
and the fear rushes out of her like a waterfall
and his eyes are cloudy as he takes in the both of them,
both his girls,
his baby daughter that he has been wishing for,
that he has been picturing in his mind over and over.
but nothing compares to the real thing.
she is the spitting image of her mother,
just as breathtaking to him
with dark hair already sprouting out of her little head
and cries that sound as stubborn as Katniss
but he can see his eyes in there,
and Katniss is crying and kissing her little baby forehead
and clutching her to her breast like she has done this all her life.
And neither of them could be any more full of love
with this little bundle finally here,
easing their worries and taking their love all in one breath.