District Four was both everything I'd come to expect and entirely different than anything I could have imagined. The center part of the district was familiar from our Victory Tour, but Annie chose not to live in the Victor's Village. She was on the outskirts of the district, along the coastline, something I never in my wildest dreams could have pictured.
The sun was threatening to set as we arrived at the local train stop in Annie's coastal village. Peeta, with his masterful artistic skills, had drawn a map to her house from the directions she'd relayed to us. It looked like a convoluted mess, but upon disembarking the train we both immediately understood what she'd been trying to say. We both stopped to take the view in, speechless.
I'd seen the lake outside our district, and we'd seen the water in the Arena, but what stood before us was an entirely different beast. The watery blue stretched out indefinitely, and just the sight of it stole my breath. When I could manage to breath, even the air had a different quality to it. It tasted of salt, and was heavier to take in and push out of my lungs. "At least we don't have to take a boat," Peeta said, trying to make light of the enormity before him.
It might have been quicker if we had. The walk along the coastline wore me out as we passed both large houses built on stilts jetting over drop-offs and small little shacks with docks built right over the water. The elevation change along our short walk was unbelievable. When we finally arrived at Annie's modest lodgings, I was glad to see her house sat directly on the beach. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep suspended out over a cliff.
"Katniss," she said with a nod as she opened the door after a few short knocks. "Peeta," she added with another nod. Hesitating at first, she stepped back into the house and pulled the door open to usher us in. Even the inside of the house smelled like the ocean. As we stepped into the living room, I understood why. Glass doors lined the far wall of the room, and they were all opened to the water outside. A cool breeze filtered through the house.
"It's easier," she explained with a half attempted motion towards the doors. "Less... suffocating."
Peeta nodded, as if he understood exactly what she meant. Considering the fact that he couldn't go to sleep unless the bedroom window was open, he probably did.
"Sit," Annie said, gesturing to the dark green couches. I'll, ah, I will, um, I'll get something to eat." She tugged at the end of her frizzy red hair as she spoke. Then she disappeared through a doorway into the kitchen.
Peeta lowered himself onto the closest couch, and I positioned myself directly next to him. "I feel like we've already worn out our welcome," I muttered softly as I leaned into his side.
"She's probably just not used to having company," Peeta wrote off her nervousness. "That's better than how Haymitch always acts when we show up."
He had a point there. Still, I felt terrible for putting her out of sorts. She had enough to deal with, and I felt like our presence was going to make it worse, not better. I reached out for Peeta's hand for support, then quickly changed my mind and stuffed my hands into my lap. I didn't want to shove this relationship, no matter what kind it happened to be, in her face after she'd lost Finnick.
"Relax," Peeta whispered to me, bumping my shoulder with his, completely at ease.
"Do you need any help, Annie?" Peeta called into the other room.
"No, no," Annie assured us as she poked her head back through the doorway, "I've almost got it. It's nothing fancy, but it's fresh."
"We aren't fancy people," Peeta retorted as she disappeared back into the kitchen.
She returned a moment later with some bread and smoked fish, all resting on one large platter. Setting it down on the table between the couches, she settled in the seat across from us. "It's good to see you," she said uncertainly. "With Mags gone, and... and Finnick... well, I don't get much company. It can get a little lonely out here." Her hands caught her elbows as she held her arms against her chest.
"How's Sam?" Peeta asked as he broke off a piece of bread. "I bet he's more than enough company some days."
Annie nodded, a little life flaring into her eyes. "Oh yes." For once, it was like she was actually talking to us, and not simply through us. "A bundle of energy, just like his father." For the first time in all our correspondence since Finnick's death, it seemed like Annie thought about Finnick without that heart wrenching despair. Was that the benefit of having children? Were you able to look at them and see the love of your life reflected in their features and not fall to pieces? I was curious, but I would never ask.
The topic of Sam ran us through the remainder of the evening, especially when he woke from his nap and began to wail for attention. When Annie brought Sam out, Peeta almost turned into a completely different person. His face lit up as he cradled Sam into the curve of his arm and ever so lightly rocked the newborn. Annie seemed happy to have someone else to dote on him for a moment. Though I was having a hard time staying awake, she looked downright exhausted. As she tried to keep a steady stream of conversation going, her eyes would sometimes start to droop shut on their own accord.
Peeta offered to pass Sam over to me, but I declined as politely as possible. Just being in the same room as Finnick's baby was almost unbearable. The whole evening was a wave of bittersweet emotions that rolled over and through me. Unlike Annie, I couldn't separate the little bundle of joy from his father. I looked at Sam and though he hardly had a speck of hair on his head, all I could envision was Finnick and how Sam would grow up without ever meeting his father and how Finnick died without knowing he was going to be a father.
When Peeta sensed the moods in the two of us, he kindly suggested retiring for the evening. Annie took him up on the offer and stood to take Sam from his arms. Even just holding him, her eyes lit up. Her face appeared gentler, her look less glazed over and lost.
She set us up in separate bedrooms, but as soon as she disappeared into her own room and turned off the lights, I tiptoed across the hallway to Peeta's room. The door gave a faint creaking as I snuck in. The only light in the room came from the moon casting its glow through the open window. The curtains billowed softly in the breeze as I slid into the bed next to him without a word.
His arm was waiting to envelope my shoulders as I settled in next to him. As I sagged into him, exhausted from the day and weary of what the next would hold, he threw another surprise my way, "You should go see Gale."
I thought at first I must have misheard. Turning my head to face him, my chin resting against his chest, I squinted at him through the shadows spilling across the room. "What?"
Instead of looking at me, he rested his head back against the elegantly crafted headboard, angled towards the ceiling. "Some things we can't change," he said, and I knew without a doubt Finnick was also weighing heavily on his mind, "but some things are still within our power." Then his eyes casted down to me, and I wished I could be the one to look away. "I know you think you'll never be able to forgive Gale. And maybe you're right. But don't you think you ought to at least try?"
I didn't want to talk about Gale with Peeta. It was the one topic that had been off limits between us since his return. It was simply The Gale Thing, and it was too difficult to even contemplate, let alone discuss with Peeta. "I don't know if he deserves that," I answered truthfully, knowing the topic wouldn't go away until I answered his question left hanging in the silence of the night.
Resting my cheek against his chest, I let out a heavy, loaded sigh.
"He doesn't," Peeta agreed gently, his hand coming up to rest against my back, "but you do. I think it would be good for you."
The way his sentence ended so abruptly on the word 'you', I could tell he wanted to say 'your therapy'. I didn't need Peeta monitoring my progress in my sessions. I didn't need him thinking he needed to try to fix me. I wasn't even sure if I could be fixed, if the pieces that made up my fractured life would ever fit back together. Grudgingly, I realized that might have been the point Peeta was trying to make.
"I'll think about it," I finally promised, though I knew I wasn't ready and doubted I ever would be.