Disclaimer: I don't own Katniss or Peeta, but I do own the name of their child.


"Peeta?"

Her voice has been reduced to nothing but a whisper. Her throat aches with every word, every breath. The nights she spent screaming took not only hours of rest from her, but her voice. Beside her her husband is sleeping. Her voice, so soft and subtle, isn't enough to rouse him from his dreams. Katniss sighs softly and climbs out of bed.

She doesn't feel right. Maybe it's the uneasiness of her stomach or the pounding in her head, but she knows she won't sleep at all tonight. So she does what she always does: brews some tea, eats a muffin and flips through photo albums.

As she sips mint tea and nibbles on a banana nut muffin Peeta had made only yesterday, Katniss agonizes over every detail in every photo. There is one of Katniss and Prim. Young, happy, smiling like they had just been told that they didn't have to compete in the games. She fights her tears and runs her fingers across the pages. She hears Peeta get up, but it doesn't fully register in her mind, for her brain and her vision are clogged with memories of a happier time when Prim was still alive. A single tear escapes her eye and Katniss wipes it away quickly.

"Katniss?" He says her name like she says his. They need each other, love each other. The way they speak each other's names is special, though no one but them can tell the difference.

"Hey," Katniss says. She gets up from her seat, walks over to him and presses a kiss to his cheek. "Why'd you get up?"

He is sleepy unlike her, so his words slur together. "I reached out for you to cuddle and you weren't there." She smiles. Gale would never reach out to cuddle, nor he would he be as patient as Peeta. They are both healing, he knows that.

"You want some tea?" Katniss offers, rushing over to the kettle.

"I want to cuddle," he says stubbornly. She can't help but giggle. His hair is sticking up in every direction, his eyes glazed over with tiredness. She wraps her arms around his neck and he pulls her in. They lean in so their foreheads meet.

"I love you Peeta. Real," she promises.

"I love you too." For a moment, they're a normal couple in love. They didn't go through a rebellion that killed their families in brutal ways. They weren't shattered, built back up and shattered again. They are just people who love each other desperately.

"Mew." Just as their lips are about to meet, Buttercup interrupts to make sure they haven't forgotten about him.

"So, cuddle?"

"Hm, let me see...I think I can manage that."

They go back to bed, collapse onto the mattress and hold each other tightly. Katniss briefly remembers the Quarter Quell before she forces the memory out of her mind and focuses on the man in front of her. She reaches out and presses her palm on his bare chest, right over his heart. His heart beat soothes her. He is alive. She is alive. That is all that matters.

Katniss falls asleep like that, her hand over Peeta's heart and her body encased in his. For the first time in forever, she doesn't wake up screaming, or wiping phantom blood from her face, or sobbing over the losses she suffered. Instead, she wakes up the next morning vomiting into the toilet, having managed to stumble into the bathroom before the bile came rushing up. Her hand finds its way to her stomach, and she just knows that in her stomach, her stomach that is no longer moaning for food but satisfied, Primrose Effie Mellark is waiting to be born.


Madeline aka Not-Famous-Yet: I wrote this a while ago for a Secret Santa thing for my friend (themockingjayslegacy) and decided to post it. Pure Everlark fluff with a hint of angst.

Katniss: Review and favorite. Follow Madeline and her friend themockingjayslegacy.

Peeta: Thanks for reading.

Madeline: Bye.

~Madeline, Katniss and Peeta