I wake up to the sweet alarm of rain falling on the roof and thunder crashing in the distance. To my pleasant surprise, I feel Peeta's arms still wrapped around me, keeping me warm. No bad dreams last night. I glance at the clock on the wall. 8:30 am. It hits me that I slept almost all day yesterday. I slowly push the covers off of me, careful to not wake Peeta.
My legs take over my body as I walk down the hallway to the closed door I haven't stepped foot in for days. I take a deep breath and open up the door to the room that would have been her nursery. She should be here now, wrapped in my arms safe and sound or sleeping soundly in her crib.
I sit down in the rocking chair in the room with bright blue walls with yellow dandelions Peeta had painted. I chuckle, I remember him asking why I wanted him to paint dandelions.
He held the brush in his hand, holding it to the side, his features giving me a confused look. "Dandelions? Are you sure about that, Katniss?" he chuckled, probably thinking I was out of my mind.
"Well, why not?" I sit down in the rocking chair, actually more like plopped down. My feet throbbed and I felt like an absolute mess. "Dandelions are so inviting. They give me hope." I smiled.
He smiled back at me.
The memory of it all seems so long ago, even if it was only last month. My hands come up to my face, rubbing it. None of it makes any sense. Why did this happen? Why us? The last six months had been blissful, calm ones. The thought of it all ending so suddenly never even crossed my mind. But then again, the death of your baby doesn't really cross your mind when you believe you're able to protect it.
I sit in the rocking chair; it creaks as I rock back and forth. My head falls back and my eyes close. Sleep does not come for the first time and instead I simply listen to the steady creak of the chair.
As I think more and more, I believe I really did want this baby. A baby to love as much as I loved Prim. Prim. I wonder what she would have thought of what had happened. She would have loved to be an Aunt more than anything in the world. I feel an ache in my chest and decide not to open the old wound that I've tried so hard to patch over for the last fifteen years.
I hear footsteps making their way down the hall, belonging to Peeta. He peers his head in through the door. "Knock, knock," he smiles. Even as he smiles, his eyes show something else: pain. I realize that he hasn't been in her room either, and it seems to be much too soon for him. "I'll be downstairs in a minute, I just needed to think for a moment." he nodded and gave me another smile, closing the door behind him.
I sighed, placing my head on the back of the chair once more. Looking up at the little clouds on the ceiling, I wonder how long it'll take Peeta to be able to walk in this room again without memories flooding back to him as they are for me at this very moment.
He had worked on the ceiling for a week now. Each night after work, he would rush to the nursery to continue his masterpiece of clouds. Many times I would hear objects fall from the room as I read or worked on our plant book, and each time Peeta would assure me it was nothing major, just a mishap. Yet I didn't believe anything was a mishap the afternoon I heard something crash to the floor.
"Peeta?" I yelled, "Are you alright?"
After five minutes without an answer I headed up the stairs, expecting anything and everything. I opened the door to the nursery with my eyes closed, knowing I didn't want to see the mess that was about to be unveiled in front of my eyes.
And to my instinct, I was right. My eyes opened to a blue and white mess. Puddles of blue and white paint stained the floor, the paint continuing to make a path around the entire room.
"Peeta?" my voice cracks as I look to see his figure staring down at the mess he somehow created. "Peeta, how did this happen?"
He opens his mouth to say something but holds it back, simply saying and shrugging, "I fell,"
Together we bursted into laughter, the humor of it all outweighing the damage that had been done to the nursery.
In that moment, everything had been right. Everything had perfectly, magically somehow fit together like a puzzle piece, that it didn't seem real. But as I looked up at the ceiling at those puffy little clouds, I realize that something so simple can be made into something magnificent.
I push myself up off the rocking chair, flooding my mind with glorious memories, and taking one last look and the room before shutting the door to head downstairs for breakfast with Peeta.