Happy
By Anna-Morgause
Description: Katniss has a conversation with her daughter. Drabble.
"People deserve to be happy."
I'm shocked at the words that come out of my own daughter's mouth, so shocked I almost drop the dish I'm washing and shatter it on the floor. Her words and her thoughts aren't like mine; I'd say that people deserve to be safe, to live, but never that they deserve to be happy. My concern has always been survival, be it mine or, Peeta's or my family's and everything else was second. I've never considered happiness something to which, or anyone else, is entitled to and this is how I know she takes after Peeta in every way. I'd wonder if she were mine if I hadn't birthed her, because even though she has dark, I can't say that she resembles me, but she clearly belongs to Peeta. He says she has my ears, but who looks at ears? I feel as though I've given this girl nothing but a name.
"I want you to be happy, Mom." Her words ring in my ears. I can count the people who've ever actually cared for my happiness on one hand. Or at least the ones I'm sure about. I know she's saying this because it happened again, last night – a nightmare. I've stopped remembering them, which is a blessing, but I still have them. Peeta was there to wake me and hold and comfort me and I was fine, but I know she heard the screaming. She had to.
I set down the dish and dry my hands and look my daughter in the eye. She's sixteen now, and sometimes get this crippling fear that there will be another reaping and Effie will come and take both of my children away in one fell swoop. I don't tell Peeta because I know he feels it, too, and I just hope it will stop once they're both 18. "I am happy." I tell her. "Knowing that you and your brother and your father are safe makes me happy."
She studies my face to see if I'm lying, even though she knows that I can't pull of lies like Peeta can. Suddenly, I feel her arms around my waist and her head pressed into my chest and she's clinging to me the way she would when she was young, starved for affection I couldn't always provide. Slowly, I hug back.
"I love you, Mom."
I fumble over the words - I still have trouble even telling Peeta sometimes - but I get them out because she needs to know. "I love you, too."
She holds me tighter and I begin to stroke her hair and I know that I wasn't lying. I am happy.
A/N: My second Hunger Games drabble and I tried to make it as realistic as possible, given what Katniss has experienced. Tell me if you think I succeeded or if I failed miserably.
