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I couldn't find it in me to sit still. Some part of my body was always moving, no matter how hard I tried. My legs were bouncing, my hands were playing with my hair, or I kept biting on my lip.
The train would soon roll into District 12, and it had been too long since I had been home.
A week ago I left for District Four, to go see my mother. I hadn't seen her in a long time, and no matter how hard it was for me to leave my home, a part of me wanted to see her. I had seen Annie and her son as well. Johanna too. She had moved to District Four to be close to Finnick, in her own way. Yes, she hated the ocean, but Finnick had loved it. So, she moved to what he had loved the most. She had actually moved into Annie's Victory House. She couldn't live there. Not without Finnick. So before the baby was born, she bought a house right on the beach. That way she could stay close to Finnick. At least that's what she told me.
Their son was only four, but he was a spitting image of his father. The same bronze hair, the same green eyes, the same love for the ocean. When I saw him playing on the beach, he even had his hands stacked with sugar cubes. It was almost eery how a like they were.
But I had been gone too long. A week had went by without me seeing Peeta's face. I hadn't heard his voice in two days. It's was too long, and I didn't like it. Didn't like being without him for this long. At all.
I was standing by the doors as they opened, and I hurried out of them with my head going in every which way. He had to be here somewhere. He knew I was coming with this train.
The first familiar face I saw belonged to Haymitch. He had been waiting for the train to come as well. With alcohol. Effie stood next to him, waiting for something from the capitol.
I didn't wait to see if they got what they wanted.
As soon as I saw the blonde locks, I was moving in the right direction. He saw me right before I dropped my bag to the ground, my body slamming into his. Losing his balance, he staggered a few steps back, but his arms wrapped tightly around me, pressing me closer to him.
He smelled like bread and cookies. And a little bit of paint. He smelled like he always did. He smelled like my Peeta.
"I love you," he whispered, and I started to cry against his shirt. Noticing after only half a second, he wrapped me even closer, placing a kiss on the top of my head before he asked what was wrong.
"He looks just like him," I muffled against Peeta's shoulder. "Noah, he's just like him. The same smile, the same hair, the same love for the ocean and sugar. And Annie, I don't know how she does it. I don't know how she lives by. I could never... If you... You can't leave me, never. Promise me, that you'll be here. No matter what."
I don't know why I felt like this. This strongly. I hadn't thought about loosing him for years. I couldn't afford that. I had him, and he had me. We loved each other. But seeing Annie, and little Noah... Annie never thought that she'd loose Finnick. But she did.
And I knew that the Games were over, and the War was over, and Peeta didn't exactly risk his life baking every day. Logically, I didn't have to worry about ever losing him. But I did. Of course I did.
Peeta didn't question me. Didn't ask why these thoughts were haunting me. Instead his hands moved to my face, pulling it from his chest so that he could look at me. His bright blue eyes stared right into mine as he answered me.
"Always."
And with that little word, he stilled all my worries. I relaxed against his body as his lips came down on mine, moving slowly for a moment before I let go.
"I love you too."
"What do you say about going home?" Peeta smiled, and I felt myself returning it through my tear filled eyes.
"Home."
I hadn't just missed Peeta while I had been gone. I had missed our bed, and I had missed the smell of bread in the morning. Even Buttercup and hearing Haymitch argue with Effie over the smallest things. I had missed all the things that belonged to home.
Peeta grabbed two bags of flour from the train, holding on to them with firm arms before he offered to take my bag. I refused, simply because I wouldn't be able to hold his hand if he took it.
Instead of opening up after lunch, Peeta left the bags in the kitchen, locked the backdoor behind us and followed me up the stairs to our apartment.
"I need a shower," I told him as Peeta wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing his lips against the side of my neck.
"You smell great," he murmured, and I felt his smile against my skin.
"I need a shower," I repeated, laughing as he groaned. "You can join me, you know."
"I would," he turned me around in his embrace, pursing his lips. "But I have a batch of cookies in the oven that needs frosting."
"What kind of cookies needs frosting?" I murmured, my hands pulling at his shirt, my lips pressing against his.
"Special cookies," he answered against my smiling lips, "very special cookies."
"I'll let go of you if you let me taste them," I said, taking a hold of his shirt.
Peeta laughed before he pretended to think about it for a moment, "Deal."
Knowing that I would probably never get into the shower if I kissed him again, I backed away from him and let go of his hands before I turned away and found myself into the bathroom. Turning on the water in the shower, I didn't stay for longer than it took to clean myself up. I dried my hair as best as I could before finding some clothes, pulling on Peeta's shirt. I had nowhere to be today, and I knew that I would drive him crazy wearing his shirt; showing as much legs as I did.
Crouching, I found what I was looking for in my bag, and then walked as quietly as I could into the kitchen where Peeta was standing with his back against me. I watched him for a long time as he worked, concentrating on the colors that covered the cookies. I knew I would get a response out of him if I said something. He wasn't painting. When he was, he was in his own world, not noticing anything else than what his hands were doing.
"I got you something," I announced after a few moments of watching him, and he turned around after taking some frosting on his finger, licking it off. His eyes widened when he saw me, and I laughed at how quickly he tried to compose himself.
"What did you get for me?" he asked, reaching his hand out with a grin. I found myself shaking my head in amusement as I placed the package in his waiting hand. I was about to reach out for a cookie when he stopped me, leading me to a chair by the kitchen island.
"Not yet," he warned, standing between me and the cookies.
"Why not?" I asked him, giving him the eyes I knew he couldn't resist. A small pout as well. "I'm hungry."
"Because I'm not done with the frosting," he told me simply as he started to open his gift. "And those eyes won't work on me. Not today."
"They should work today, considering we haven't seen each other for a week."
"The legs would have worked," he stated, and I found myself crossing them to tease him. But he wasn't watching.
"Technically, it's not from me. Annie made if for you," I told him as he looked at the knotted bracelet. I had no idea that she was just as good with knots as Finnick had been, if not even better. "She made one for me too."
"It's beautiful," he murmured, more to himself than to me and I smiled. I would have to make sure that Annie knew, that he liked it just as much as I liked mine. "I don't understand how a person can make something like this. Out of rope."
"Isn't it a lot like your frosting, and your painting?" I wondered, and he looked up at me with a smile.
"Speaking of, I have to show you something," he told me as he tied the bracelet around his wrist. He left the kitchen quickly, but he had the time to return before I could steal one of the cookies. Or even get up from the chair. In his hand he held a painting. Without even having to take an extra look at it, I knew what it was. It was the meadow, long before it looked like it did now. Long before I even knew Peeta existed. I remembered the day all to clearly. It was one of my happiest memories. I was ten, and Dad had taken me out for a hunt. My first real hunt. I had followed him a lot of times into the woods before that, but that day was the first time he let me take down my own game. It was just a rabbit, and no matter how easy they were to get down now, I didn't know that at the time. I managed on my first try, and I was so glad. So proud of myself. Thinking back of the memory, I could see my father's wide grin and the sun reaching his eyes. He was proud too.
I let my fingers trace over the two figures, one tall and one short, walking away from District 12. Into the woods. Into their second home.
"How..." I started, not finding my voice. But my Peeta understood.
"It was the first time I saw him take you outside the fence. I wanted to paint you something, paint him, and the first thing I thought about was this."
"He gave me my first bow on that day," I remembered, and looked up at Peeta. He was smiling, a sad tone to it, and I felt myself mirroring it. "Thank you."
I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him down to me, pressing my lips against his hard as if emphasizing my words. He kissed me back for a moment before he leaned out and looked at me.
"I got you something else," he said after a second of hesitation, and he bit his lip. He almost looked nervous. "Close your eyes."
"Why?" I wondered, going through all the possibilities of what he could ever think of giving me.
"Close them, or I'll blindfold you," he smirked and I chuckled as I did what he told me to.
I could hear him moving around in the kitchen for a while as I kept my eyes closed, trying to figure out what he was doing. For a second it sounded like he was frosting again, but I shook that thought away. Why would he be frosting if he wanted to give me something?
I heard a weak sound coming from underneath me then, as something touched the counter I was sitting at.
"Open," he said, and automatically I turned my head toward where the last sound had been from. Opening my eyes, I heard Peeta take a deep breath and I exhaled myself.
Right in front of my eyes was a cookie. I couldn't tell what it's original color was as it held an orange frosting all over it. But that wasn't it. In green, capital letters, taking place at the center of the cookie, two words were written. Just seven letter, but such a big sentence. Question.
Because in that green frosting, Peeta had asked me to marry him.
All I could think about was that day in the woods again. About my father. How safe he made me feel. How warm, how loved. When he died, I never thought I'd have that again. But here I was, and Peeta, he was everything to me. He made me feel loved, and safe, and special. He made me feel good.
Trying to find my voice, I raised my glance and looked at him. He was clearly nervous. And me not talking didn't help.
"It doesn't have to mean marriage," he said in a rushed voice, holding out his hand. In it was a box. Most likely with a ring. "This ring, it doesn't have to mean that. I know you, Katniss. And I know that you may not want this, and I know that we haven't talked about it. At all. But I love you. I do, with everything that I am. And I'm okay if you don't want to get married. You don't even have to wear the ring if you accept it. I'm okay with this ring only being a promise to love you. Because it is. Forever. Always."
"Asking someone to marry them means just that," I whispered, trying to fight the tears that wanted to leak over. "And when you answer this kind of question with yes, or no, it means just that. But Peeta, I want that ring. I do. And not just as a promise of loving you forever, but because I want to marry you."
"So that's a yes?" he grinned, opening the box with his free hand. I was about to answer him when I saw the ring hidden inside it. Something round was placed right in the center of the ring, shining against the silver. It was my pearl. The one Peeta gave to me in the Quell. The one I held on to, when I couldn't hold on to him.
"It's a yes," I whispered, afraid of my voice breaking. I wanted that ring on my finger, forever. I wanted Peeta forever. Yes, I wanted to marry him. Of course I did.
I wasn't ready when his lips came down on mine, but I responded without thinking. Our lips moved hard and long against each other, and none of us wanted to let go. None of us wanted this moment to ever pass. It was perfect.
My hands tousled in his hair, his arms wrapping around my waist, pressing my body against his. He lifted me up from the chair, holding me in his arms as I wrapped my legs around his hips, locking behind his back. He started to move underneath me, his legs moving toward our bedroom, but I stopped him.
"My ring," I panted against his lips. "I want it."
I could feel his warm breath against my face as he chuckled, backing into the kitchen again. I let go of him reluctantly when he seated me on the counter, taking a step back. I didn't let go of his gaze as he took the ring from the box and placed it on my fourth finger on my left hand. It had a nice weight to it, and it felt like a perfect fit. Looking down on it, I saw that it looked just as wonderful as it felt.
But I didn't have the time to think about it anymore before his lips were on mine again, his arms lifting me, his legs carrying both of us into our bedroom.