Hi, everyone. Thank you so, so much for the amazing reviews so far! It's always wonderful to get such positive feedback, and it's even better to know that people are actually interested in reading what I have to put out there!

I'm leaving on Friday to move up to college, so I may not update at all this upcoming week, but as soon as I'm settled in the dorm I'm going to get back to updating ASAP. I'm hitting a bit of a block right now, but hopefully I can soldier on through it and finish this story with an ending it deserves.

If there's any part of Katniss and Peeta's lives that you would like me to write about, just let me know. While this story seems like a series of vignettes looking into Katniss' life with Peeta and her two children, I'm still coming up with different events that can act as a catalyst for a climax or a realization of sorts.

Oh, and I'll definitely write another sex scene, because let's be honest, those are the most fun to write! Haha.

Thank you, again, for the amazing support and feedback! And again, let me know if there's anything in particular you want me to write about.

XO,

S

That night I have a dreamless sleep. I never have nightmares after making love to Peeta, and for that reason alone you'd think it'd make me want to do it more, but the sad reality is that it's exhausting opening myself up like that to anyone, even if it is my Peeta.

He wakes at Dawn, an old habit from his days as a baker's son, and I can just barely hear the sounds of him working in the kitchen. I look over at the watch on his nightstand. Tick tock. I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my fingers over them until I see stars. I hate clocks. I'll never be able to react normally to them.

Taking a deep breath, I hoist myself out of bed. Like I said, it's exhausting, opening myself up like I did last night, making myself vulnerable. I feel lethargic as I braid my hair and dress for the day.

Soundlessly, I walk into the kitchen and over to where he's standing. I wrap my arms around him and he tenses, for just the briefest moment, before he realizes it's me. I don't know if we'll ever truly leave the arena – physically, we're not there anymore, and he has masked his pain and perfected the art of moving on and throwing himself completely into our family, but there are still moments when we are on the balls of our feet, ready to attack if necessary. I wipe a smudge of flour off of his cheek; he looks at me like I'm the most wonderful thing he's ever seen. I don't deserve those looks; I don't deserve all of the love he gives me when I can only return a fraction of it. To this day, Haymitch still tells me that I can live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve him.

I pull away and I see a flash of rejection in his eyes. I know he still has moments where he doesn't quite believe I'm going to stay. Even after the birth of our children, I think he sees me as a flight risk. I rub his arm, my way of being reassuring, and I think it works for now, because he turns back to sprinkling a pan with flour.

I go into the cupboard and retrieve a roll from yesterday. I make my way over to the kitchen table and I sit. Sometimes I just love to watch him work. "The boy with the bread," I say sotto voce. He turns his head a bit; I think he heard me mumbling, "hm?" He asks. I shake my head, "nothing." He looks at me for a moment, those piercing blue eyes almost like x-rays into my head. I'm scared, but just for a moment, that he can hear the inner dialogue going on within me. He shrugs and turns back around. I finish the cheese roll just as I hear Finn and Prim bounding down the stairs.

I feel arms wrap around my neck and I turn my head to find the toothy grin of my son in my eye line. I smile and I turn so that I'm hugging him. "Good morning," I say, as I kiss him on his nose. Prim is carrying Buttercup, petting him adoringly as he purrs. I squeeze Finn to keep from letting out a little cry; my voice catches in my throat as I see their bonding. The pain from seeing the similarities between my Prim, and my sister, is excruciating. "Mama?" Finn sees my face contort and he puts his palm on my cheek, a worried look on his face. Prim looks over and furrows her brow, "What's wrong?" Peeta sees Prim holding Buttercup and he quickly draws the attention away from me – we've told our children about their namesakes, but we haven't told them everything.

I never told Prim that her namesake, my sister, was killed at the hands of President Coin, burned alive while she looked right at me.

I never told Finn that his namesake died fighting for the world we live in now. I never told him of his gruesome death at the hands of the Muttations.

Instead, we told Prim that her aunt had a smile like sunshine, and all the kindness in the world. And we told Finn about the elder Finn's bravery, and also his amazing charm.

I snap out of my thoughts and become aware of Finn, still looking at me worried. "Don't worry," I brush some hair out of his eyes and kiss him on the nose again. This seems to relax him, and he gives me a large smile. "Go get something to eat," I smile back at him, and he pulls away to go get something for breakfast. Peeta is cooking some meat on the stove and the smell pulls me entirely back into reality. "Is that squirrel?" I ask, running my hand through Prim's hair as she sits next to me. He nods, "we're running low, though." "I'll go out and get some today," he turns to look at me, a reassuring smile on his face, "if you're up for it." I nod.

Prim holds on to Buttercup throughout the entire meal, even with Peeta and me trying to ask her to put him down. She loves that cat, though, more than anything. I French braid her hair, letting my fingers run through the soft strands. She closes her eyes, content, she loves when I braid her hair. Peeta stands up when it is time to go, and he grabs their book bags, like he does every morning. Prim stands up, setting Buttercup down on the floor, and walks over to her father. My voice catches in my throat as I see the back of his shirt sticking out of her skirt. "Prim," I motion for her to come to me and she does, "turn around." She looks at my curiously before obliging. I tuck her shirt back into her skirt and she smiles, "thanks, mama." She kisses me on the cheek and goes over to where Finn is waiting, anxious and excited for yet another day of school.