(Peeta's POV.)
Watching your son grow into a mirror image of yourself makes you think. It makes you think long and hard. I watch closely as Finnius adds the final touches to his painting of the sun, his hand movements quick and swift.
Memories of being sixteen again start to resurface, making me smile. I think of all the times that I would paint my deepest feelings, giving me a sense of relief to let it out on paper.
All the nightmares brought to life in almost too real of detail, causing Katniss to hate them. I hated them too, of course. It just felt good to get the nightmares off of my chest. What happened in the Games definitely did not come across as sunshine and rainbows; it was dark and unforgettable, hence starting the chain of nightmares Katniss and I both battled through for a long, long time.
As time moved forward, the nightmares became less frequent, the comfort of being in eachother's arms at night giving us a sense of peace and closure. But when they do come, you'd better believe how truly real they feel.
Some nights it's Katniss, some nights me, only she takes them much harder than I do. She will suddenly jolt forward, panting heavily, her entire body drenched in sweat and tears as she sobs into my chest, muttering small bits that she remembers of the nightmare.
Seeing Katniss in pain breaks my heart more than anything. I could care less about how bad my nightmares are, I only want to comfort my beautiful wife. My Girl On Fire.
(Katniss' POV.)
Tick tock. I look over at the clock above the fireplace, the hour hand now striking the number nine.
I call out Rose's name, beginning to fold the load of clean laundry Peeta set out on the dining room table. Rose scurries over to me, her blond braid now more messy than ever. I smile, running my fingers along the stray strands of hair.
"I see you're finally getting the hang of braiding your hair," I say with a light laugh, pulling her into a side hug. She giggles into my shoulder, burying her face into my shirt. I gently rub her back, briefly holding onto her.
It's touching moments like this that I wouldn't mind freezing time, then living in that beautiful moment forever. The bond I share with my daughter is impossible to explain.
With her, I feel as if I'm looking at a younger version of myself, my appearance only slightly altered. It's like I'm watching myself grow up again, but this time I can make better decisions. More than anything, I want Rose to grow into a beautiful and strong woman. I will make sure that happens, no matter what.
Rose Mellark will not make the same mistakes her mother made, I'll promise you that. I release Rose from my grip, setting her small pile of clothes into her arms. She kisses my cheek, clutching the clothes tightly as she begins the journey back to her bedroom.
I stack Peeta and I's clothing in my arms next, cautiously making my way to our bedroom. Right when I make it to the closet door, the clothes slip from my hold and plop down onto the carpet below me. A deep sigh escapes my lips as I bend down to gather the clothes once again.
This time I balance them in one arm, the other grasping the door handle to our closet. I twist the knob slowly, the door creaking open. As if falling from the sky, a large box suddenly comes crashing down literally inches away from head, barely missing.
I fall to the ground with a thud; the clothes now sprawled out across the carpet. What in the world? I cautiously crawl across the carpet, studying the large brown box with strong interest. The box seems faintly familiar, but nothing is coming to mind.
Once I'm finally in arms length reach of the box, I slide it closer to me, my heart pounding faster in my chest with anticipation. I slowly claw away at the thick tape plastered tightly to it, curiousity getting the best of me. A loud burst suddenly comes from the top of the box, enough tape finally stripped free of it to open up.
My fingers drag across the two flaps keeping the box still closed, but I can't get myself to open it. Not knowing what's in it makes me even more nervous to find out, but I can't just forget about it.
I suck in one last deep breath, pulling the two flaps apart. What's inside sends me into a fit of tears instantly; placed right in the middle of the box sits my Mockingjay pin, just as beautiful as ever.
(Peeta's POV.)
"Daddy, mom is crying!" Rose whispers anxiously in my ear as she tugs on my shirt, her eyes filled with worry. I'm up out of my seat before she even has time to say another word. I stop cold once I reach the kitchen, confused as to where she is.
A small whimper suddenly catches my attention, the sound coming from Katniss and I's bedroom. I rush to her side as fast as I can, my arms immediately pulling her into my embrace. Tears stream down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling quickly.
"Katniss, what's wron-" I stop short, finally noticing it from the corner of my eye. The same Mockingjay pin she wore in the Hunger Games rests in her shaking hand. My fingers slowly trace the shape of the beautiful bird, then move up Katniss' arms until they reach her cheeks.
I wipe away the tears, pulling her into a long and passionate kiss, something we haven't shared in what feels like forever. My hands now cup her chin, the kiss immediately calming her down.
I finally release, pressing my forehead against hers. She looks deep into my eyes, taking a deep breath.
"There's more in the box," she whispers, holding back the urge to begin crying again. I raise an eyebrow at her, my gaze shifting over to a large brown box sitting only a few feet away from us, the top opened wide.
She nods her head, signaling me to go look inside, which I obey. The first object I spot is the pearl I gave to Katniss, the amazing memories beginning to flood my thought process. I slowly lift it up, holding the small object up to the light.
Katniss scoots closer to me, her eyes studying the pearl just as closely as mine are. I plant a kiss on her cheek, wrapping my arm around her waist as we sit together, admiring the memorable objects in the box. It nearly brings tears to my eyes, thinking about the great stories each object holds.
My train of thought is suddenly broken off by the sound of a worried voice coming from the hallway.
"Are you okay, mommy?" Finnius asks, rushing over to hug Katniss. She laughs lightly, accepting his hug.
"Your dad came to the rescue. I'm better now, sweetheart." she replies, her lips curling into a smile as he continues to cling to her.
Rose soon follows, rushing in to comfort her mother. A smile spreads across my face, warmth filling my heart. Seeing my children want to comfort their mother more than anything is truly a beautiful thing to see.
"Woah, what's that?" Rose asks, her attention now on the pin still in Katniss' hand. Katniss and I exchange a look.
Back when I first convinced Katniss that we should have kids, we both agreed that telling them about our past was something that needed to wait until they were old enough to understand.
Telling your children that you killed people isn't exactly something they need to hear so young. It was out of of the question. Before, it wasn't hard to keep the truth from them at all. It had never been brought up, though.
Katniss rolls the pin around in her hand, pondering on the question for a second. To my surprise, she signals Rose and Finnius to both sit by her, which they eagerly obey, nuzzling their heads into her shirt.
"This," she starts, looking down at the Mockingjay pin, "is a Mockingjay pin. Do you two know what a Mockingjay is?"
Finnius' hand shoots up as if she's a teacher and he wants to be called on. A light chuckle escapes Katniss' lips.
"What is it, little guy?" She asks with a smirk.
"It's a pretty bird," he answers, flashing us a toothy grin. I can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.
Katniss nods, holding up the pin so both of them can see the details.
"You're right, Finn. That's exactly what it is. This pretty bird also has a special talent. Can you guess what it is?" Katniss asks, looking down at both of them. They shake their heads, their eyes wide with excitement to know more.
"They repeat what they hear. So, if you sing to them, what do you think they'll do?" she asks, both of their hands shooting up in excitement this time.
"Repeat it!" They both exclaim at the same time, giggling. Katniss looks at me from the corner of her eye. I can tell she's trying to read what I think about the whole situation, so I give her a reassuring smile.
The kids are too young to know what that pin was really used for, but for now? They will fall in love with Mockingjays about as hard as the Mockingjays did with Katniss' beautiful singing voice.
"Can I wear it, please?" Rose asks in a soft voice, looking up at Katniss with puppy dog eyes.
Katniss looks down at the pin, then back up at her daughter.
"Be very careful," Katniss replies in a whisper, her shaky hands pinning it to Rose's shirt. You can tell from the look in her eyes that she's trying so hard not to begin crying.
As Rose stands up proudly to show off the pin, I pull Katniss into my arms, kissing the top of her head.
"Our little Mockingjay has been born."