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After Mockingjay

Chapter Five: Reverence

The venue. The rings. Flowers. This is what is worried over for the past couple days. What is Peeta going to wear? Who will lay all of the stuff out? All of these mundane things barely glance the surface of my mind, given the fact that it's all done before I can even sort my thoughts.

Peeta's premonition pulls through. The old Peacekeeper building, he thinks, will be a substantial venue. In only a week after our proposal, I'm surprised he's already found a place that I go along with it immediately. There's really no point in travelling outside of 12 to get a better one, and it only feels right that we're getting married in our home district.

The rings are made at a small jewelry store in District 1, the district that made luxury items for the Capitol before the Revolution. I heard from my mother that they'll be transported to 2 in another week, and when she comes for the wedding she'll bring them.

The flowers come from District 7, crate loads of them stacked at our door one morning. Peeta pries one open and we find them overflowing with blushing primroses.

We take one look at each other and Peeta puts the lid back on the crate, saying that he'll take them to Haymitch's until the wedding.

The rest is pointless, at least in my mind. Peeta's suit is made at a small tailor in the square and, again, Haymitch is taking care of the rest. I don't know why he's so involved in this, after he swore he was going to have a quiet life after we were dropped off from 13.

And that only leaves the invitations.

On a warm Monday morning, I sit in the kitchen while Peeta sits at the table, sorting through a small notebook, brows pulled with concentration. I watch as he scribbles something down in a second notebook and turns his attention back on the first.

"What are you doing?" I ask, after half an hour of this.

"Invitations," He says, and then places both notebooks down. I was surprised. I almost forgot that he said he was going to do the invitations.

I sigh, chewing thoughtfully on the cheese-covered buns Peeta made the day before and wonder who he is going to invite, since the list in my head is too short to adhere to the three lists of names on his paper.

He seems to notice this and flips back to the first page. "Here, take a look."

I do, and instantly realize that I wasn't thinking hard enough. The first couple names are obvious; my mother, Gale, Haymitch, Madge. I knew I should've guessed those.

I scan down the rest of the list, and names jump out at me. Annie, Pollux, Beetee, Delly, Hazelle. A small twinge of revelation deep in my stomach, working its way up to my heart where it becomes a vibrating confusion. I get to the next names; Plutarch, Paylor, Effie. More surprise when I see my old prep team's names on there.

"Why are they-?" I begin to question, shaking my head.

He seems to know who I was talking about. "They would enjoy this. Plus, who else is going to make you look ravishing that day?"

I smirk and continue down the list. I see Enobaria's name, and for some reason this just makes me sigh.

"Johanna?" I say finally, when I reach halfway down the list.

Peeta mumbles something inaudible, and this sparks a smile in me. I haven't seen Johanna since I departed 13. I hope that she's faring well, holding on to the last shreds of sanity the Capitol had left her with.

The rest of the names are citizens from 13 whom Peeta must have made friends with during our stay there. I remember some of their names, but I can match no faces to them if I tried.

I place the list back on the table and look up, realizing that Peeta's face is no more than a couple inches from mine.

For some reason, my heart begins to flutter. It's a weird emotion, something I remember from long ago. An emotion that was once fleeting, but had curled up and died somewhere inside of me. It was just rearing its unfamiliar head, tasting for something more.

And with this feelings comes thoughts. Peeta hasn't pressured me since we had started sleeping in the same bed again, and we barely spoke about it. "I won't force you Katniss," he had said, and that was that.

He leans in further, the pen clattering from his hand. It begins softly, like the patter of rain against the windowpane, a flower slowly unfurling in the spring time. His lips are cool, comforting. They spark something inside of me, the dimmed flame in my chest that made me breath in quick, the feeling spreading outwards to the tips of my toes and fingers.

I feel a single tear run down my face, and then his lips are gone, but only for a second. He skirts around the table and lifts me up, his arms circling me. I feel his lips press into mine again, and then I move, my hands touching his face softly.

He picks me up, muscles contracting in his arms as he does so. I can't stop. The flame inside me is roaring, threatening to consume us both.

"Is this what you want?" He asks against my mouth when he realizes.

I think. I think about being alone for the first couple months in 12. I think about the first days with him here, distant and aloof. And I think about the months that came afterward, where the only thing in my life that was goodwas Peeta. The only thing that was pure, and unconditional.

"Yes..." I murmur.

He scoops me up, cradling me between his arms. There's a moment of weightlessness, where my decision hangs in the balance and I'm given time to choose otherwise. I don't.

I feel the soft down of the mattress beneath my back, the strong, solid weight above me. His hands, my hands, I can no longer keep track. The flame inside me flares outward, surrounding us both. The fire consumes us, burning us, and finally when our spirits are drawn out by the blaze they fuse together. And we are one.

Next chapter, I promise. Get ready!