"Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls? They say it's the only time when our world barely brushes fingers with theirs... The only time we can feel the lingering regrets of spirits who have left our world. That is why loneliness always exists in the hour of twilight." They sat in the Meadow, two summers after the war. The green grass was lush under their hands and feet, and the shadows, true to Peeta's words, were long, soft, but sorrowful. The summer flowers retreated their petals back into the bud. The sun slowly disappeared behind the trees, basking the landscape in a glowing, ethereal orange.
"Then why is orange your favorite color?" Katniss asked. She took Peeta's hand in hers, slowly, but firmly tracing patterns across his palm. She drew the two of them, the sun, the flowers of the lush meadow, and just squiggles.
"Why is green your favorite color?" Peeta grasped Katniss's hand in his, stopping the movement. Both where silent for a few moments, studying the darking sky. Katniss looked down, then to the forest, down again, then to Peeta, a light blush covering her cheeks.
"Green reminds me of the forest, of hunting and freedom and happy days."
"And Gale?" Added Peeta.
"And Gale."
They watched the sunset for a little while longer, the invisible barrier that was created when Gale was brought up diminshing all conversation. As the last minutes of twilight ticked to an end, Peeta's voice broke the silence.
"Orange is my favorite color because it reminds me of loss, and even though we lost some, they live on, with us. Orange reminds me that even if someone is dead, they live on, with all of us, in memories. Orange reminds me not to dwell on the past, and to instead to live on and be happy. To remember my brothers, Madge, Prim, all of them. It is the color of rebirth, and when I see it, I know everything is going to be ok."
Katniss was satisfied with that answer.