Chapter 9: Paradise
They play along the riverbank. As I rock the baby in my arms, I smile at my husband and little daughter as they explore and frolic. Peeta is showing Clementine how to pick dandelions. She claps her hands with glee and then swats at her Daddy playfully. Peeta's beautiful laughter reaches my ears as he pretends to be affronted. I smile softly. Just then, a whimper alerts me that my son has just woken up.
"Oh, ssssshhhhhh, sssshhhhhhh…" I soothe him, bouncing him in my arms before smiling down at him tenderly. "Did you have a nightmare?"
Of course, my youngest child cannot answer me quite yet, but I continue unabated. "I have nightmares too," I confess. I try not to think of those nights I wake up still, after nearly four years of freedom, in a cold sweat over some flashback from Peeta's and my Games. "Someday I'll explain it to you. Why they came…. Why they won't ever go away. But I'll tell you how I survive it. I make a list in my head of all the good things I've seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It's like a game. I do it over and over. Gets a little tedious after all these years, but…. there are much worse games to play."
I glance up to see my daughter throw herself into her father's arms. She's just a toddler, 3 years old, but already so full of life. I smile at their obvious joy before rising and heading up the slope to our cave. Passing through the naturally formed rooms, I reach Peeta's and my room before placing our son in the bassinet – naturally carved, just like all our furniture - at the foot of our bed. I then double-back into the cavern that serves as our kitchen and begin to fix lunch. I hear footsteps and giggling as people approach the mouth of the cave.
"Clementine, why don't you go find Auntie Prim and Uncle Rory?" I hear Peeta's voice ask. Scampering of feet off into the distance. I wait, expecting my husband to come to me.
In a moment, I feel his arms encircle me from behind, his lips on the pulse point of my neck. My eyes flutter close and I lean into his muscular frame, even as I try to concentrate on the soup I'm stirring.
"Peeta….. not now….." I whine. "I'm cooking lunch….."
"Just one more kiss, then I'll go," he whispers huskily. He plants feather-like kisses down my neck and to my shoulder. His hands begin to wander. "Eric asleep?"
"He's in our room," and I try not to gasp out the response as I feel Peeta's hand pull up the hem of my dress. I turn my face into his and give him a tender kiss.
"I love you," I sigh, smiling.
He smiles back. "I know. But…. sometimes, I forget. Would you mind…. showing me?" I feel his hand cup the junction between my legs and stroke it. I am almost embarrassed by the girly, breathy gasp elicited from me, its vibrato tickling my vocal chords.
I twist around in Peeta's embrace, placing my hands on his chest. "Behave," I tell him mock-sternly, smirking. To placate him, I kiss him chastely, then stand on tiptoes and whisper in his ear, "You'll have plenty of me tonight…."
Peeta gives me a deep kiss, and I hum into his mouth in pleasure. "Mmmm…"
He pulls away. "Can't wait," he whispers back, before leaving. I smile after him before returning to my work.
What a dreamy life!
