So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"
I tell him, "Real."
"Good," He whispers, before kissing me lovingly. Not like the forced ones in the Hunger Games Arena. But, a new start, a new beginning starting with that one kiss.
"Finnick!" I call outside to the wobbling toddler playing with his sister, Rue. No, it isn't Rue, at least not the one that was 12 years old when we became allies, with dark brown hair, tan skin, and golden brown eyes. Not the one that taught me the four note melody that meant quitting time.
No, it's not Finnick, at least not the one that saved Peeta's life in the Arena. He's not the one that loved Annie, or taught me to tie knots to release my stress, or fought off the Mutts to save all of us that led to the assassination of President Snow.
No, these were my children.
"Comin' Momma!" He screamed and came running up to me, tackling my legs. I bent down and picked him up. I kissed his nose and he let out a soft giggle.
"How's my favorite boy in the world?" I coo at him. I feel someone's strong arms around my waist. Peeta.
"I'm not your favorite boy in the world?" Peeta whispers in my ear, pouting teasingly.
"Nope." I laugh softly and bounce Finnick on my hip softly as I walk towards the kitchen while I watch Rue with her friends through the window.
Peeta takes Finnick from me and puts him in the highchair. "Hey, baby boy." He whispers softly and tucks a loose strand of Finnick's blonde curly hair behind the small boy's ear. How did I get so lucky?
I hear a high pitched drawn-out scream and I immediately dart outside and meet a site that I never thought I would see again.