(Katniss' POV.)
The arrow slices the muggy air, nailing the sloppily painted target spot-on. My arms sag to my sides, my surroundings frozen. A feeling of youth fills my heart, making me smile.
With age and the priorities of parenting, archery is something I haven't been able to do every single day. When I do though, it's the best feeling in the world. It brings me back to the days of hunting with Gale, being able to shoot down multiple birds as if in my sleep. Simple and easy.
Now older and lacking recent practice, it takes a few extra trys to nail the bullseye, but I slowly get back into my old ways.
I've been so lost in the world of hitting the target; I almost forgot that I'm supposed to be giving Rose advice.
"Mom?" I hear her whisper from behind me. I break free from my daze, turning around to face her. She is clutching my old bow so tight, her knuckles have turned white. I realize it's because of how excited she is.
"That was AMAZING!" she exclaims, bouncing on the heels of her boots. Her braid whips across her face as she celebrates, a huge smile painted from cheek to cheek.
A shy laugh escapes my lips, my cheeks beginning to burn with slight embarrassment.
"Thank you, sweetheart." I whisper, my lips beginning to curl into a smile.
"Can you hit a bird?" she asks, her eyes wide and curious.
I scratch the back of my head, laughing lightly. "It's been awhile, but I'll try for you." I say with a smirk, pulling her in close enough to tickle her stomach. She bursts out laughing, burying her head into my shoulder.
"Yes!" she exclaims, plopping herself down on the grass behind me, ready to watch. Who knows if what she's going to watch is even going to succeed, though. I definitely don't think so.
I lean down and pick up a small stone, holding it out to Rose for her to take.
"Follow me," I whisper. She doesn't object, anxiously snatching the stone and trailing close behind as we venture into a small wooded area in the yard.
As I prepare my bow to shoot, something deep inside my heart begins to ache. Gale used to do the same method of attracting birds to be shot down, as I was about to show Rose to do.
Deep down, part of me does truly miss Gale. How we were before the Games. How we used to combine our survival skills to become one. How Gale and I would collect enough food to get by. Sometimes, we would even gather more. Another part of me feels abandoned by him. A part that knows I'd rather live without Gale than without Peeta.
I tilt my head slightly, Peeta now in view. He and Finnius are sitting on the back porch, painting pictures together. Peeta's deep blue eyes suddenly find mine, his blond hair whipping across his forehead. A smile plays across his lips as he raises a hand to wave.
Everything begins to hit me all at once as I wave back. It feels like how it used to be; Peeta painting and baking cheese buns, me hunting and practicing my archery. It's like I'm seventeen again, except now I have two beautiful children to share the happiness with. This warms my heart, making me forget about the pain of Gale.
I turn to Rose again, tapping on the stone in her hand. "Alright, I want you to toss that as high as you can at those branches," I say, pointing to a group of branches above us.
She nods, her eyebrows furrowing in determination as she raises her arm above her head. The stone soars into the sky, slicing multiple leaves from the branches, sending them barreling down to the ground below.
A small flock of birds scramble out of the tree, two knocked down by my arrows with sloppy precision.
Rose obviously has no clue as to how much better I used to be, so to her, that was flawless. She claps excitedly, rushing over to the birds that were hit.
"Woah," she whispers to herself, studying my work with extreme interest. She slowly walks back over to me, her eyes not leaving the birds.
"Teach me how to do that, please." she says, looking up at me with big puppy dog eyes. I smile, running my fingers along her messy braid.
"Fine," I reply with a light laugh, placing her hands correctly on the bow. Just as I'm about to give the first instruction, something catches my eye. Part of her tucked in shirt hangs loosely out, forming a shape similar to a duck tail.
I force myself to swallow the approaching tears, holding back the urge to call her "little duck," just as I had with Prim. Sweet, innocent little Prim. Her giggling brings me back into reality. I begin to give instructions to Rose, trying my best to not sound like I'm on the verge of tears.
(Peeta's POV.)
I watch intently as the brush in Finnius' hand crafts a beautiful painting of the sun, similiar to the ones I used to paint as a kid at his age. His eyebrows furrow in determination when he paints, part of his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
I can't help but laugh at this, but he doesn't even look my way. It's as if he's in another world, creating just the start of a painting that will soon bloom into a whole group of other masterpieces. He's so much like me, I can't help but look back at the past when I see him painting or baking.
My gaze shifts over to Katniss and Rose, who are still practicing archery. I always wonder if Katniss feels the same way I feel about Finnius, but with Rose. It feels like you're looking at a smaller version of yourself, only without the Hunger Games being part of their lives.
"Is this good, dad?" Finnius asks, turning to look at me with raised eyebrows. I run my fingers through his messy blond hair, smiling down at him.
"It's perfect, Finn." I reply. A toothy smile spreads across his face, the same look of pride he had in his eyes when he baked those cheese buns, reappearing. A faint sound off in the distance catches my attention. My head snaps up, greeted by Katniss and Rose who are now making their way back to the porch.
I reach over to the tray I prepared just minutes ago, and set it in my lap as I wait.
Katniss takes a seat next to me, greeting me with a gentle kiss. The smell of nature on her clothing brings me back to when we were younger, making me smile.
"Still got it in you, Girl on Fire?" I ask with a light laugh.
Her lips curl into a smile, her cheeks beginning to turn pink. She shakes her head slightly, heaving in a deep sigh.
"The flames aren't exactly as strong as when I was sixteen, but I'm getting back to the way I was." she replies with a shrug, her eyes now noticing the tray resting on my lap.
I reach down and pick up the cup of tea I prepared for her, which she gladly accepts.
"No sugar in your tea I assume, bread boy?" she asks with a smirk.
A laugh escapes my lips. I pull her into a kiss, pressing my forehead to hers.
"Always," I whisper.