The way I love him is almost undescribable. I look at him with his blue eyes, and his gray hair that glimmers in the sun, just like my gray hair does.
I once asked him, "Peeta, what's your favorite color?'"
He looked at me with his eyes full of confusion and mystery. And I wanted to own them.
He knows that I know what it is.
He cocked his head to the side, and responded softly, "Orange like sunset,"
"It hasn't changed for eighty years, Katniss," He whispers.
I lifted my head up, surrounded by the green meadow, and pink flowers.
Sunset was his answer. He loved that color for his life. Always have always will. I know everything about him.
He likes warm water for his bath, not hot. He likes sugar in his tea. He hates alligators and dogs, because of our Hunger Games experiences.
I get on my knees, and Peeta lays stretched out, his hands behind his head, embracing the warm sun.
Peeta starts to lean in, my delicate head following his lead. I come closer, and our lips touch mine.
I can still taste the champagne and pear on his lips and the way he smells. He gently lifts his hand to my gray hair, and places it softly behind my neck.
His warmth spreads through my body like wild fire, or maybe its just the sun on my soft skin.
I can tell Peeta is careful, he knows I am fragile, since it happened. The rebellion.
I start to break away, regretting it every second we depart. I place my hand upward, as his hand reaches mine. I start to shake a bit, feeling that I can't bare its weight, and Peeta clutches it like a lifetime. A pain starts to form in my heart, but then fades to a tingle.
Then, everything in my surrounding starts to get lighter, and I feel fine. Peeta says my name, but I don't care. Some how, I say the words, "I love you,"
And the brightness over comes my vision and I let go.