"I do. I need you."
Katniss's words startle me at first, and I feel the frown emerge on my face. Those words are what I've been waiting to hear since I was a kid, when my dad first told me about the girl with the two braids, and yet I don't know how to respond. In different circumstances, I might allow myself to enjoy this moment, to revel in the sweet yet determined look on her face, and ponder on the meaning behind those simple words. She needs me. But this is the hunger games, and it is anything but simple.
I let out a sigh, knowing full and well that Katniss' stubborn attitude would not work to my advantage in this situation. She was determined, for some stupid reason, to give up her life for mine, and I knew I had to do whatever it took to convince her otherwise.
"Katniss," I begin, trying to form my thoughts into a coherent argument, but my train of thought is cut off when her lips crash against mine.
There's something new about the way she kisses me, something that catches me completely off guard. I try to remember why I was so on edge just a few moments ago, but I can hardly remember where I am, let alone why I would want her to stop.
I do try though, to get my point across, but it's pointless when I realize her determination to make me forget even my own name. So I give in, and before long the only thing I am consumed with is Katniss Everdeen. Her lips, so soft and fierce, move rhythmically with mine, and the usual hurt I feel when we kiss for an audience is replaced with a sense of passion, as strong as the fires that burn in the ovens back home. Her name escapes my lips again, but this time it's not in an attempt to talk.
Neither one of us pulls away, and it's easy to forget the prying eyes of Panem, the other tributes, and the threat of death hanging over us. In this moment it's just a boy and girl who are swept up in their longing for each other.
I smile against her lips, feeling her fingers run through my hair and all I can think is that I never want this moment to end.
It does though. All of a sudden lightning is flashing, Finnick is waking, and Katniss and I are breathing hard against each other. I feel her forehead rest against mine as Finnick mumbles something about not being able to sleep, and that one of us should rest. I look up for a moment, unsure of how to respond, mostly because I am still trying to catch my breath. I see Katniss give me a small smile as Finnick seems to grasp what he may have interrupted, and replies with a hurried, "Or both of you. I can watch alone."
As tempting as the offer is, I refuse quickly, knowing that I couldn't allow myself to be that selfish, and hurriedly suggest that it would be too dangerous and that Katniss should just lie down. She doesn't refuse, and so I lead her down to the edge of the hut before I can change my mind.
The locket around my neck hangs like a shackle, and as I slowly remove it, I feel a sense of freedom, though what kind of freedom, I'm not sure. Free from the Capitol's expectations to act out the star crossed lovers angle? Free from a form of bondage that accompanies the title of a victor? Or just free from life itself, as I hand over the last of my persuasions to make Katniss see why she has to be the one to live? I put the locket around her neck, accepting the feeling of freedom regardless of the meaning attached, and try to picture what Katniss's life may look like after this hellish ordeal. A life full of love and safety and joy. I look deep into her eyes, wanting nothing more than to see the smile that emerges on her face stay there permanently.
Her beautiful eyes reflect the fire that earned her her nickname, and I feel a strange yearning to see that same fire reflected in a small, younger pair of eyes, ones that she would help create one day. At that thought, I can't help but rest my hand against her stomach, imagining the baby that all of Panem assumes we have, and, despite how awful of a world the baby would be born into, I find myself wishing it was really there.
"You're going to be a great mother, you know," I tell her honestly, and as I lean down to kiss her, not for the audience but for me, I hope she understands how true that statement is.
I walk back to where Finnick sits, watching the waves roll onto the shore. We sit there in silence for a while, and my thoughts are calm, peaceful. I look back at Katniss, her chest rising and falling as she sleeps, and think of everything we've been through so far. From winning the Hunger Games, to trying to calm the rebellion on the Victory Tour, to this Quell. Then I imagine what it would be like to grow old, with her by my side—facing the world, together. Even though I know it'll never happen, the thought calms me, and I'm able to just watch the waves roll by, and all I feel is peace.
