I sit under the willow. My back against its sturdy bark, while the leaves rain green all around me, casting random shadows on my skin and the grass. Even though most of the sun is blocked, its heat still seeps through; relaxing me like it's the warmth of a loved one's embrace. Gently my fingers run through the green blades, which are soft to the hand just like a bed. While doing this I find a few peeking daisies which contrast with the green but somehow make harmony with it. For one moment, I just stop and take it all in.
I'm grateful for everything now. It's not like I wasn't before the games but now I know what could be at stake and the price I would pay for losing it. Now I know the wonders of a whole family and the stability someone can have in life. To lose something now would damage me more greatly than to have lost it before the reaping, where I never knew what I had. Getting used to my new life had taken time, but I got there and now every second I appreciate it. Even the bad seconds.
A giggle comes from behind the green leafy curtain and I know she's there. Patience isn't a thing that she's accustomed to (which Peeta says she gets from me) so she runs in parting the green and races straight to me.
"Mummy!" Her hands go around my neck and mine around her body, in an embrace I never thought I would have. A child and a mother. I smile at the thought.
"Look what I made with daddy," her dark hair frames her blue eyes, which are happily placed on the biscuit which is on top of her hands. The biscuit, which is meant to be a flower, has been iced with a splurge of colour. Each colour differs with the next; creating a mass ball rainbow and something only a child could imagine and create.
"It looks lovely honey, and I bet it tastes even better!" I say while I start to tickle her, which makes her squirm about and laugh.
When I stop she says, "It's for you, I made it for you…" she smiles; something which is so common to her face I don't think I'd recognize her without it. The action reminds me of Prim and how she left the cheese out for me. A pang of pain hits me but I'm good at covering it up and I remind myself of the child in front of me. And the fact that, that gift was as a good luck present when this one is from pure affection.
"How about this? Why don't we share it, so we can both try it," her nod couldn't come faster enough.
In the end I give her most of the biscuit, but I do get one bite. Anyone who lives with Peeta would know it's his recipe: The perfectly balanced flavours but something which leaves you wanting more.
I turn to see him in the window, kneading bread with our son's hands. They both laugh, Peeta for baking with him and the boy for the squishy dough that encases his hands. Already he looks like Peeta and I'm sure when he grows up he'll resemble the boy with the bread even more. I couldn't think of a better father.
Peeta turns his head so he looks out the window and his eyes just catch our outline through the foliage. Smiling at the sight he turns back. Sometimes I wonder if he always knew there was this side to me. One which was reasonable and kind. Sometimes I wonder if he didn't know but loved me all the same. All I know is that he's one of the reasons I'm smiling and like what I am today.
Her back's to the bark and she's clamped to my side while my arm holds her. With her eyes closed like they are, anyone would think she's sleeping but I know she's really daydreaming. A habit that comes to her in peaceful moments. I'm glad she gets this childhood, with the baking and the playing and not experiencing the terrorising fear which can only come from the reaping. I'm so glad.
Slowly I lean my head on the bark and close my eyes, enjoying everything I have…
Ever so softly I hear her whisper, "Here is the place where I love you".