I was slightly hesitant whether to upload this or not, because I didn't know if it was worthy of posting it here. This is my first THG FF. I am still new to the Everlark community, even though I've been shipping them for three years; I just started recently writing about them. Still trying to come up with better plots, but I just wanted to put myself out there in the THG community. No flames allowed please! :)
Taken place in Mockingjay, pre epilogue. Oneshot. Pretty fluffy since I feel as if so many questions were remained unanswered and the ending was rushed in Mockingjay.
We sit in the grassy green Meadow together, hand in hand, as we both remember distinctly when he asked me if I loved him. Five years ago, I think. There is a moment of silence until Peeta asks me something, "Katniss?" He looks over to me and stares at me with his deep blue eyes.
"Yes?" I whisper softly.
"Do you think that I love you as much as I did when we were in the arena? When we were in The Hunger Games and the Quarter Quell?" Peeta purses his lips together and grinds his teeth together. I can only tell by the movement of his jaw line.
I am startled; he brought this up for the first time in five years. It's always been a sensitive topic to touch on, since we lost our loved ones we met because of the Games. I think of Rue. Finnick. Wiress. Mags. Cinna. Portia. Bogs. And The morphling from District 6. My throat locks up, but to buy me some time I take my free hand and stroke my hand through Peeta's golden blonde locks. "I don't know. We're both a bit crazy you know," I manage to smirk a little. "But we need each other to get better. I'll just tell you this, we're almost there. Almost. I know it." I smile.
He tightens his grip on my hand and nearly begs, "Please… Be brutally honest. I won't get mad." I can tell by the look of passion in his eyes that he won't hurt me.
"I know you won't," I grin and place my hand on his cheek. I sigh, "At night, you still freeze or flinch from my touch when you experience the flashbacks. I know you love me, but it seems as if when we were in the arena you loved me unconditionally. Right now, it seems as if you just love me." I look down and realize that I'm ravenous for his unconditional love. I remember in the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, I desperately wanted him dead, or thought I should just kill him myself. I took his protection and love for granted. I think of when I pushed him back on the vase and got his hands scraped up the night before the games. I think of when I was about to release my arrow at him when Claudius announced there could only be one victor. I think of when I wanted to kill him with a syringe.
"I wish I could go back." He pauses. "Go back in time and stop myself from being hijacked by Snow."
I relax the muscles in my face and caress Peeta's arm. "Peeta-"
I want to add a comment but he interrupts me, "I wish I could go back to when we were in the cave. I want to know what it felt like to be so in love with you again. I wish I wasn't tainted with the bad memories."
I look at the structure of his face. His deep blue eyes. His blonde locks. His square face. "But you aren't. You remember every detail of when I picked the dandelion to the burnt bread. The Hunger Games and the Quarter Quell. The memories came back."
"But the bad memories are still here." He says silently. There is a moment of silence until he lays down in the Meadow and asks me to lay with him. I place my head on his chest as he plays with the end of my braid. This feels like we're in the cave again. Feels exactly the same as when he took away the nightmares. I dig my hand into my pants pocket and I know something is there trapped under the lint. I feel a hard ball and pull it out. "Remember this?" It still glistens. The shiny pearl Peeta gave me.
He smiles sadly, "Yes. Yes I remember." I look up at his face and place it in the palm of his hand. "No, Katniss, it's yours. Always has been, always will be." He places it back in my palm and shoves it away.
I ask him a question I've never asked because I didn't dare to. "Do you regret the Games? The Quarter Quell?"
"No," He says flatly.
I furrow my brows. "Why not?"
His voice is now softer. "I wouldn't have had this. What we have now," He looks up at the sky and stares at a puffy cloud. "Of course, I don't like the fact that my family and friends are gone because of the Games. I don't like that the fact that the memories of killing Cato, Glimmer, Marvel, Cashmere, and Gloss still haunt you to this day. I don't like that I was captured by the Capitol. I don't like that the victors were protecting us, risking their lives for us to not be killed. I don't like that your mom left to stay in District 4 and Gale to be in District 2. But I would go through all of that just to have this. What we have right now. Our inseparable bond." He smiles faintly.
I fight back the tears as I think of Prim. If he had never been chosen at the Reaping, or I hadn't of volunteered for Prim, or if Prim hadn't gotten picked in the first place; Prim and my mom and Gale and even Madge would still be here. District 12 would still be up and running. No one would have died. I think of if the Games hadn't happen, Peeta would still be working at the bakery. He would still be decorating cakes. Prim and I would still go see the intricate designs. The Hunger Games would still be occurring. I wouldn't have Peeta. If I didn't have Peeta, I would end up being married to Gale. Running off like we promised. Probably getting our tongues cut off and working as Avoxes. But Gale wasn't there for me in the end, it was Peeta. He stayed by my side the entire time. Not Gale. Not my mom. Not Haymitch. (Like I'd expect Haymitch to stay anyways). It was Peeta all along.
"You're still protecting me. Real or not real?" I ask Peeta suddenly. It's like we're back when we were sixteen, seventeen, or eighteen. The memories of the Real or Not Real game Cressida, Gale, Finnick and I used to play with him come back to me.
"Real."
"You love me unconditionally. Real or not real?" I look toward the side and stare at the grass, wondering what Peeta might say.
He takes a while to answer back, until he finally says, "Real." He plays with the tail of my braid again. There is another silent pause as I hear the mockingjays chirping what sounds like Rue's four notes. I feel my eyelids drooping slowly, as I hear Peeta faintly, "Go to sleep." His hand brushes the lose strands of my hair off my forehead.
I curl up against Peeta and say, "Stay with me."
He murmurs, "Always."
So that's it. Pretty horrid, I know. Review please. No flames. First drabble of THG ever. Quite an accomplishment, no?
-thedandelions