A/N: I'm trying to upload a chapter a day. Oh, and in this chapter, you'll have something to look forward to, not like the first three. I just really suck at beginnings. And I'm sorry for that. This one's short, but I had to cut it that way. You'll see why.

"Chuck, go geddit!" Finn shouts. The Rottweiler dashes out into the sea and swims to get the driftwood the little boy threw. Finn is jumping excitedly as he sees Chuck running back to him with the stick in its mouth.

The waves here in Four are larger than those in the beach we own. Obviously there are a lot more people here, too. My mom, Annie, and I are sitting on the back porch of Annie's house in the Victors' Village. She and my mom are on beach beds but I insisted I sit on the floor instead, so I can dig my heels into the soft white sand. Peeta and Finn are playing fetch with Chuck. I can just hear Finn's squeals as Peeta hoists him up in his shoulders and runs around.

Peeta would be such a great father. He was born for it. I'm not like him, I'm not ready. Though I'm still infertile because of the shot they gave me, I still have a year or so to make up my mind. But I'm still scared.

What if I'm not enough? What if I don't turn out to be as great as Peeta? What if he wakes up, grown tired of me, of waiting, and he leaves me?

"You're eerily quiet, dear," my mom says, snapping me out of my worried thoughts. I turn my head to look at her. "Is everything okay with you and Peeta?"

"Of course. It's just…"

"What is it?"

"I don't think I can give Peeta what he wants. I'm… I'm not sure I'm ready to have kids."

"Is he pressuring you?" she asks.

"God! Mom, no! No, Peeta would never do that." I reply defensively. "It's… obvious he'd want kids of his own, but I'm not so sure I do."

"It's still early, Katniss. You're only turning twenty one next month. There's still a lot of time. And talk to him about it."

I just nod, her words doing very little to help me. Just as we finish talking, as if on cue, Peeta and Finn return, both dripping in saltwater and sweat. Peeta's legs—both real and prosthetic—are covered in sand, a part of his torso is also smudged with it. He places Finn back on the ground, the kid rushing to his mom.

"Did you have fun?" Annie asks.

"Yes, momma. Uncle Peeta has very wide and comfy shoulders."

We all laugh at that. Peeta wedges himself between me and the post I was leaning on, pulling me to him. I feel him kiss the top of my head. "He's cute, isn't he?"

"Much like his father," I reply quietly. My mind has a bad habit of dwelling on the negative things.

The three of them head back inside, Annie and Finn to clean up, my mom to prepare dinner. Peeta and I are left outside. I straighten myself up so he can't hold me, it's not really helping.

"Everything okay, Katniss?" he asks. Since our very first encounter, Peeta has always been able to sense my needs. The bread. Help to win the Games to get back home. Comfort to get through the nightmares.

I bite my lower lip, maybe the pain would clear my mind. When I don't answer, he shifts so he's facing me. He's trying to read my expression, I can tell. I hate it when he does that sometimes.

He sighs, "Look, we can still get a divorce if you want."

What? This makes me look at him, my jaw falling slack.

"No! God, no. It's not that. I love you. I really, really do."

"But?" he asks. I smile sadly. He knows me too well.

"But. I don't want kids."

"You don't want them?"

I frown at this. Do I want kids? There's no Games anymore, I wouldn't have to worry about their lives cut short. But would I want to take care of a baby? Would I want to come home to Peeta playing with our son or daughter? Both?

I picture it in my head, I'll be walking into our door from my hunt. Peeta's holding our son in his arms while cooking our breakfast. Then our daughter would come running to me and hug me. She'll tell me how much she has missed me even though I tucked her into bed. I'd kiss her chubby cheeks, then when I look up, Peeta would be smiling, watching us.

I'd like that, yes. Very much.

I smile, "No, I do want them." Looking back up, I see Peeta beam.

"It doesn't have to be soon, you know. Whenever you're ready."

There goes my heart. I wake up every day thinking I can't love Peeta more, but every day he proves me wrong. I lean in to give him a kiss but before our lips could meet he remembers something and asks me to wait as he gets it. I don't let him go and kiss him anyway, and then he forgets whatever he remembered.

Turns out he wanted to go get his gift for me—a silver necklace with a moon pendant. He says an ancient goddess of the hunt was also the goddess of the moon. When he saw that necklace, he immediately thought of me.

This is the hundredth time I've fallen for him today.

After dinner, we head to an unused Victor house, since we just can't bring ourselves to stay at those houses that have belonged to our friends. The houses here aren't the same as ours, looking more like beach houses, but this is the fishing district anyway. I leave him sitting on the bed in the master's bedroom and fetch my gift for him. It's not as fancy, just a box of new paints made of seashells. I've been told it's smoother than the ones he has back home.

He's delighted, but I think I could give Peeta a branch and he'll react the same way because it's from me. He sets it down the bedside table, then catches my wrists and pulls me on top of him. We kiss, I can smell the salt on his skin. I can taste it, too.

"Happy 1st anniversary," he murmurs against my lips. I smile and give him one last peck before I take off my nightgown.

We stay there for three more days, touring the district and paying a visit to the huge monument for all the fallen heroes and tributes, then we head home.

The day of my birthday comes, and so does Gale's letter. It simply contains a birthday greeting, and him telling me he kind of feels sure of Kate. They have been together for almost a year now. It's the last part that gets me though. It says:

I love her, Katniss. And even I found that hard to believe because I thought it was always going to be you. Maybe I just needed you and Peeta to get married before I let myself fully love her. And I have, I really love her. I just felt like you should know.

I don't feel any bit of jealousy, but it's a bit unsettling, what he said about me. I decide to not linger there, he did just tell me he loves Kate. All that aside, I'm happy. I'm happy he found Kate.

I don't write back instantly—I can't—because I'm busy being spoiled. You know, Peeta. It's like we celebrated the whole day. Morning, he surprised me with a breakfast in bed, something called French toast with berries and a cup of tea. Then it's us in the tub as he washes me. He insisted, almost begged actually, so I had to agree. And besides, it is my birthday.

Then it's lunch, we head out to Sae's and am surprised when a small gathering of people are there, outside her house, waiting for us, to celebrate. There's Thom, who is attached to the hip with a girl who isn't from Twelve—I can tell from the auburn hair. The only other redhead I knew from here was Darius.

There's Sae and Mia, Josiah and Chris, the workers who rebuild the district, which have become Peeta and I's friends too because Peeta owns the bakery and Peeta is friends with everyone.

"Happy birthday, Katniss!" they all shout.

I can't help but smile, "Thank you. You didn't have to do this."

"We owe you a lot, Ms. Everdeen." Joseph says, one of the newer workers.

'Yeah, I owe you the lives of your family members.' The bitter voice in my head says but I ignore it. I'm trying to be better. I really am so I say, "Just call me Katniss," with a smile on my lips. "And uh, it's Mellark now actually."

"I hope you don't mind," Peeta whispers to me. "I invited half of the district."

"As much as I would have loved to spend the whole day alone with you, this is great, too. Thanks."

"Glad to hear it."

We eat together, and it feels like it's Parcel Day or something because there's so much food on the table. Not as in Capitol-much, but Twelve-much. Everyone's smiling like it's their birthday and not mine. It makes me smile, too.

Peeta brings in a two-tier cake and they all greet me a happy birthday again. He helps me cut it up and tell everyone to help themselves. Some of the original residents of Twelve that I really knew from trading in the Hob or those who came to my mother give me a gift—a medium-sized leather hunting bag. I thank all of them again, my voice breaking a bit because I know they contributed for that, no matter how little they have.

After a bit of dancing I reluctantly I agreed to, the sun is already setting, we call it a day. I offered to help cleaning up but they insisted I don't. And so off we go home. Peeta sits me on the couch and tells me to close my eyes. I do as he says.

He comes down the stairs after a short while and hands me something covered in parchment. "Open," he says.

So I do, my eyes first, then his gift for me.

My shoulders and practically my whole body slack at the sight of my sister smiling—laughing at me. It's her. It's her eyes, her smile. Her hair is in two braids, one of her hands is hovering in the air like she's about to cover her mouth, exactly the way she laughs.

Used to laugh.

I have no idea how Peeta knew that.

She's wearing a yellow dress, the color of the very flower she was named after. It doesn't take long for me to realize that she's in the meadow, and I spot me in the background, like I'm watching her, leaning against a tree, painted carefully by Peeta's hands,

I realize that this is the second birthday I had without her. The first one didn't really count because there wasn't any celebration. I don't even think I remembered it was my birthday.

I'm twenty one, and she would have been seventeen by now, the same age I was when I was in the Quell. Would have been. If she was still alive.

Then I couldn't help it anymore, so I just let my tears flow. One of them drops on Prim's face and I'm worried it might get ruined. On impulse, I swipe my hand to wipe the tear off and I sigh as I feel glass instead of paper. It's framed, thank God. My fingers landed across her face, then I caress her as I would if she were still here. I miss you so much, Prim. So much.

I realize I haven't said a word since I saw the painting and I don't think I have the strength, so I wipe my tears away and look at Peeta. He looks worried, and sad.

"We can put it in one of the spare rooms if you don't want it," he suggests, I hear a tinge of disappointment in his voice. I don't like his suggestion, so I will myself to find my voice again.

"No, I want it." I take his hand and pull him down so he sits beside me. I lean my head on his shoulder, looking at the painting again. "She looks so real."

"I figured you wouldn't want to forget her, and the memory book wouldn't be enough."

"Thank you, it's really beautiful."

"Well, that depends on the subject. And she's beautiful. Like you."

I wish I knew exactly what to say like Peeta does. But I don't, so I turn my head and kiss his shoulder instead. He puts an arm around me and I scoot closer to him, to hug him, so I know he is still here, alive, physically with me, not like my sister, who is and will be in my heart forever, but never in my arms again.

Today marks the third year since the war ended. And like the past two years, a tribute to the fallen heroes is televised. The first year I don't remember what they said, I didn't even watch it. The grief of losing her still too fresh and raw. The second year it was the interviews of the close relatives. I remember turning down the offer to talk about her. It was Gale they aired.

This year it's just Plutarch reading short messages for each of the war heroes and martyrs. For each person it's different, and I appreciate their effort. Everyone deserves respect. Everyone deserved better.

When they get to the members of the very same squad we belonged to, it's too much for me so I stand and sit in the kitchen, leaving Peeta alone in the living room. I stare at the portrait of Prim hung on the wall above one of the kitchen counters. He follows shortly after, but leaves the television on. We don't talk. We just listen.

When it's over, I lead him up to the spare room where we placed Annie's gift, the huge blank canvas, which is now halfway covered in memories. Together we just stare at them, the people we've had the huge fortune of meeting. There's Boggs looking tough to one side, but there's something about him that gives off the aura that he is a kind man. There's Finnick carrying Mags on his back, both of them smiling. Little Rue is on Thresh's shoulders, Foxface is sitting on a slab of rock to the side. There's Wiress singing, our fellow squad members, we even included the Careers because they were part of our lives. But they're not vicious in their portraits, they're all smiling.

This is the right thing to do. To remember them. We can't let their memories be swallowed by oblivion. It's been three years Since. It's hard to believe how much time has passed.

Three whole years…

At first, it's like a short amount of time. But I picture a year-old dog and a three year old dog, a seed and a sapling, a flat empty space and a huge mansion. The person I was and the person I am now. Those who were alive and now gone, here on this planet but not in our memories.

Three years can bring such a great amount of difference, of change, good and bad.

And I want to change. But I don't want to leave the past behind. I want to remember, I want to live with it and be happy with it, both good and bad things. I want to do the things I swore I'd never do not just because I can, but because I want to.

And I want to make Peeta happy.

So after two years of religiously taking birth-control pills, when I've thoroughly strengthened and convinced myself that I'm ready, that I can, I stop taking them.

A/N: Things are moving forward now. You'll see my plans for them soon. Thanks for reading! Here's something from Peeta in the next chapter: "Hey, it's daddy here."