Chapter Text

Part 1

~Johanna POV~

I hate my shrink. He’s a broken record, the way he always connects everything to Peeta Mellark. My nightmares? Peeta’s screaming in them. My hallucinations? Peeta’s there covered in blood. My trigger? Peeta Mellark.

He insisted the only way for me to move on with my life was to get over this boy. He’s just a boy. Nothing to make me anxious. But he does.

It replays in my head, the torture he underwent, his screams, his hollowed-out eyes. But all throughout, he had something special. A spark. Something inside him, fueling him to calm Annie while he himself was still afraid. Something so that instead of succumbing to Snow’s attempts to change his memories, Peeta would whisper his favorite things about Katniss so that he wouldn’t forget. Between beatings, he’d gush about everything he loved about her. Something allowing him to feel thankful for being there instead of Katniss.

I never realized how much of a sap I had become because of him. For a while before meeting Peeta, I had accepted there was no one who cared about me. But ever since everything we went through together, it hurt there was never anyone waiting for me on the other side. Nothing but morphling.

It dulled the pain of everything. Losing everyone I’ve ever loved. My time in the Capitol. The Games.

The pain of who I’ve become. Something dirty. Something broken. Something weak.

For weeks, I struggled to care. It wasn’t hard to ignore everyone around me, numb to the world. I spent days lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing. The food in front of me turned cold as I ignored it. What was there to get better for? There’s no one and nothing. There wasn’t any way to get revenge. I often wished Snow could still be alive, so I could rip him limb from limb. That would be motivation to live.

It wasn’t until Clara Everdeen set out to help me that I started to get better. I was barely present, the world hazy, but I felt tentative fingers brush through my short tangled strands. It felt like… my mother all those years ago.

"I know how you feel," Clara had whispered. 

"Like I want to die?" I asked, my voice painfully hoarse.

"More than that," she sighed, "Like there’s nothing to live for. Like the world could be better without you. Like a burden. As if you have no purpose."

"What would you know about it?" I snapped, irritated to be distracted from the silence, but also… angry she was right.

 "I… lost my husband, the love of my life. And shut down. I stopped everything, even with two children. I regret that time more than anything else in my life. I never coped healthily," she explained.

"I don’t have anyone depending on me," I countered. 

"What about yourself?"

“I won’t get anywhere in life,” I smirked, fighting to keep in my tears.

“Why not. You’re strong, capable, and young. You deserve to live. Really live. For yourself.”

It seemed so simple. Too simple. But it carried me to sit up, properly speak with the doctors, and eat my own food. Little by little, I lived again. For myself.

I added my own little reason too. Out of spite. Snow wanted to break us. And I won’t let him win.

It’s led me here to 12. "Everything connects to Peeta," my therapist had concluded. "The best way to improve might be to get in contact with him. Your most powerful memories connect to his suffering… but if you can see him as more than that, you could begin to heal. And Peeta’s likely experiencing similar aftereffects as you. He might be able to relate. If only you have the courage."

I’m surprised that, even though Peeta looks healthier, I can feel he’s afraid. It’s obvious in the way he avoids looking at me and instead focuses on the horizon, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, as we walk side by side away from the house.

I had practiced this conversation dozens of times, but with my heart beating so hard I feel so damn distracted.

We walk along a path out of 12’s Victor’s Village and toward a town-like area. I’m surprised by how put together it looks. There are lots of buildings still being built, but it’s incredible seeing the progress after all of 12 was destroyed.

"Peeta," I breathe, frustrated at the fragility of my voice, "how are things really going?”

He glances at me briefly, then away again, “Better,” he says quietly, “But we had a rough time for a while. And you?”

“I’m trying,” I shrug and Peeta cracks a little smile.

“That’s the most we can do. It’s the first step,” he murmurs.

“You sound like my shrink,” I blurt out.

His lips curl further, “Aww. Really? I guess it’s starting to rub off on me.” I feel myself smiling, but force my expression back to neutral.

I need to be direct. “What are your symptoms?” I ask after a moment.

His smile instantly falls and his pace suddenly picks up, “Uh… I… I have episodes where I feel like I’m back in the Capitol, sometimes I have trouble trusting others and I have some… triggers.”

“Welcome to the club,” I say. “I have triggers too. Like seeing you.”

Peeta stops in his tracks and finally looks me right in the eyes, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’m messed up, huh? It doesn’t make sense how anxious I feel to see you.” I admit, finding myself suddenly struggling to look at him. He’s fine. We’re fine.

“It’s the same for me. Seeing you I mean,” he says gently, “But I think it helps that you look better,. Healthier. The thing is I’m not afraid of you… It’s like I’m constantly afraid for you.”

“Same here,” I tell him. “But look at yourself. You look… human . I don’t feel like one,” I take a deep breath quickly feeling stupidly vulnerable, “How did you get so much better?”

“Well I’ve had a lot of support,” he sighs, “And I haven't been that for you. I’m sorry for avoiding you.”

I’m suddenly confused, “You? Avoiding me? That’s what I’ve been doing.”

“Hm. I guess we’re not that different after all,” he laughs nervously, “It helps to be busy. I bake a lot, if you could believe it. It helps.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I agree.

“Why don’t we try to talk more often? It doesn’t make sense to keep avoiding each other, while we’re going through the same thing. And I feel like this really is helping.”

He’s right. Between when I first saw him up until now, I’ve begun to see him as just a boy. Because that’s what he is. Even after everything.

“Let’s try that,” I say, “Now I think we should head back. If Finnick and Annie are still cleaning Aqua, they’re doomed. Kids suck.”

“They’re not that bad,” Peeta grins.

“Oh, not to you of course,” I roll my eyes, “You want them someday. With Katniss.”

I laugh as his cheeks redden.

~Katniss POV~

Everyone clearly wants to leave me alone with my mother. And I can see that Peeta doesn’t want to stand between us.

We should be having some sort of conversation, but I don’t want to. Call me childish- that’s fair. I avoid my mother and only look out the window, watching Peeta and Johanna walk away with a small pang in my heart. 

I’m sure he’s okay. He’s been getting a lot better. It’s just the fact that he’s with Johanna and everything they both went through. What if he has an episode and I’m not there to help him?

Katniss,” my mother whispers. “Look I know you’re likely upset I haven’t been here –”

“Yes, I am,” I cut her off, my voice harsh and my eyes still glued to the window.

“But I need you to understand–” she begins again, but I’m already shaking my head.

“Understand what? That you abandoned us? That you left me to take care of everything?” I finally face her. “ Again ?”

She flinches, and I remember Peeta asked me to give her a chance. I’m trying.

“There was nothing for me in Twelve,” she says quietly.

“What about Prim? What about me?” I raise my voice, feeling hurt. “Why don’t you care about us?”

“Katniss, I do care about you both,” my mother interjects gently. “But in the Capitol, I had a purpose. I could help patients in the hospital and you wouldn’t believe how much they needed it. Here, I couldn’t have helped you. We both know you were forced to grow up too early and now I’m just not the support you need anymore.”

“So what? Just because I was forced to grow up after father died, I’m expected to be able to get through everything alone?”

“No,” she says, tears welling in her blue eyes, “But there were other people here to help.”

"And you know a lot about that,” I say sarcastically. 

“I was in contact with Haymitch and he gave me regular updates. Just because I wasn’t physically with you doesn’t mean I never worried about you. You were always in my thoughts,” she explains, wiping away her tears. “And you had Peeta. He was there for you when I couldn’t be.”

The mention of Peeta ignites a fire within me. “You do not have the right to speak about him,” I say forcefully. “You have no idea what he’s been through. You don’t get to use him to justify your mistakes.”

I glance back at the window. Peeta’s gone.

My mother takes a shaky breath, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to make things right.”

“What’s right ? Does that mean you’ll stay here? Does that mean you’d be a mother, finally? And if things get hard again, will you just leave again?” I ask, feeling myself getting emotional. I can’t expect anything from her and get hurt again.

“I promise you, I will be here from now on, anytime you need me. I won’t leave again, Katniss. I want to make things right with you and Prim. I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m here to stay.”

I stare at her, trying to process her words. “It’s going to take time. I can’t just forgive you. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

“I understand,” she says softly. “But I’m willing to do whatever it takes and wait however long I need to.”

I take a deep breath, feeling a little bit of relief. “Okay. I’ll give you a chance… to prove it.”

“I will,” she nods, earnestly. “I’ll prove it to you.”

Prim comes in at just the perfect moment, rushing in the room and wrapping her arms around my mother.

“Welcome back,” she grins.

Part 2

~Peeta POV~

Once we get all our guests settled into empty houses in the Victors’ Village, Katniss and I walk hand in hand toward the woods. It’s that perfect time of day, where the sun is just starting to set so that colors spring up in the sky and there’s a slight coolness to the air.

I feel incredible. Light, as though my worries have all been lifted. Katniss and her mother’s conversation went well– better than I expected. Mrs. Everdeen has decided to stay with us, at least for a while, and that gives them the time they need to grow back together.  And I feel like I can truly fix things with Johanna. I can be her support, her friend.

Here, with soft grass beneath us, long flowers brushing against our legs, and Katniss beside me, I don’t feel concern for the future. I’m not fixated on our past. I can just live in this moment. The warmth of Katniss’s hand in mine, the smile playing on her pink lips, the depth in her silvery eyes as she gazes at the world around us– it’s all I could ask for.

We reach a small clearing, and Katniss suddenly stops. She points at a dark tree standing tall nearby, its rough bark catching the last rays of sunlight. “We should climb it!” she says, her voice filled with excitement that makes me smile.

I glance up at the tree, taking in its height and the way the branches stretch out. “I can’t climb,” I say, shaking my head with a laugh. The thing is, I don’t want to embarrass myself, especially not now, when everything feels so perfect.

“And I couldn’t bake until you showed me how,” she counters, raising her eyebrows with familiar defiance. “Come on, I’ll teach you! Don’t be a scaredy cat.”

“The only Kat here is you,” I joke, grinning at her playful attempt at a scowl.

She steps in front of the tree, eyeing it carefully. “Here, watch,” she says, her tone shifting to something more focused. She points out a large gnarl in the tree, and with ease, places her feet on it. Her fingers curl around the bark as she pulls herself up, her movements fluid. Watching her, I’m reminded once again of her strength.

She climbs to the lowest branch and settles herself comfortably on it, her legs swinging slightly as she looks down at me with a grin. “Your turn,” she calls, challengingly.

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. I place my good foot on the gnarl, just like she did, and reach for the branch. My hands grip the rough bark, and I pull myself up, relying mainly on my arms. It’s not as hard as I thought it would be. Even with my prosthetic leg, I find my balance.

Finally, I manage to hoist myself up next to her, settling onto the branch with a slightly breathless laugh. “Funny meeting you up here,” I say, casually.

She lets out a soft laugh and plays with her braid a little, her fingers twirling the dark strands.

Something’s up .

~Katniss POV~

As we sit together on the branch, the world around us feels distant. The leaves rustle gently in the breeze, and the colors in the sky have deepened to richer shades of orange and purple, casting a soft glow on Peeta’s face.

This is it. My chance. But how do I say this?

I’ve tried so many times over the past week to ask him. While struggling to paint, relaxing at the lake, cuddled in bed… but I just couldn’t get the words to form. Even with all Prim’s little hints. My little sister has been quickly getting frustrated with me. Come on! She said earlier today, If you don’t ask today, I’ll ask him.

That is not happening.

“Peeta,” I whisper, “I know we’re… well technically we’re married but…”

I see a hint of alarm in his expression. Damn, did I already mess this up?

“No! I don’t mean that,” I fumble, “I’m glad we’re together. I mean I want this relationship to be… ours. Does that make sense?” I search his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says softly, clearly relieved.

“So would you- do you think… um.” I feel a surge of frustration. I cannot mess this up.

“Katniss,” Peeta smiles sweetly, “It’s just me. Don’t be nervous.” He leans a little closer and strokes my arm gently in a way that’s just so Peeta .

“Can we have a toasting?” I breathe. 

For a heartbeat, Peeta just stares at me, his expression unreadable. What if I’ve made a mistake, if maybe I shouldn’t have said anything? Maybe he doesn’t want a toasting. Maybe he thinks it’s unnecessary, or–

His face breaks into the warmest, most genuine smile, flooding my chest with warmth. 

“Yes!” he beams, his whole face lighting up. “I’d love that. I’ve thought about it so many times, but I didn’t want to pressure you. But yes, let’s do it.”

“Could we do it now?” I ask hopefully, “I don’t know if I can wait even one more day.”

His grin widens. “Now works perfectly.” Then, with a playful glint in his eye, he suddenly scrambles down the tree and shouts, “Race you to the house!”

“Hey, no fair!” I yell back, leaping off the branch with ease. I hit the ground running, my legs pumping as I pass through the trees, the wind whipping past my face. Even with his head start, this is going to be easy.

It takes seconds and I’m right by his side. But I don’t pass him yet. Instead, we run next to each other as one, our footsteps in sync and our breaths mingling in the air.  

As we break through the edge of the woods and into the clearing of the Victors’ Village, I feel a surge of competitiveness. I still need to beat him! I push myself harder, picking up speed, reaching the front door a moment before him.

“Nearly a tie,” he says, heaving in deep breaths.

“I still won,” I grin, teasingly. “But keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

He chuckles, shaking his head, and then he guides me inside. It’s completely dark, and I wonder where everyone is.

“What kind of bread should we toast?” Peeta asks as he turns on low lighting. “Cheese buns?” he jokes.

“No!” I laugh, shaking my head. “I was hoping you could make that raisin-and-nut bread. The one you gave me that saved my life,” I smile softly, thinking of that day again. “Unless you had something else in mind. Other than cheese buns!”

Peeta’s grin widens, “No, I don’t. I could do that, sure. I’ve been making that kind all my life. It’s pretty simple.”

We move to the kitchen, gathering the ingredients. I watch Peeta as he works, his hands moving with practiced ease, adding the flour, sugar, and baking powder without measuring into a large bowl. I then carefully add in measured amounts of baking soda, cream of tartar and ground cinnamon.

“Can you stir these together?” Peeta asks, handing me a wooden spoon. I take it from him and mix the dry ingredients. The smell of cinnamon rises from the bowl, filling the kitchen with its aroma.

While I work, Peeta moves to another bowl, cracking an egg with a deft hand. He beats it together with applesauce and a bit of melted butter, the mixture coming together smoothly. There’s something beautiful about the way he moves in the kitchen with confidence. He’s clearly in his element.

“Here,” he says, stepping closer. “Now we combine them.”

I watch as he pours the wet mixture into the bowl with the dry ingredients. “Just until it’s combined,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he stirs the two together with steady hands. “Want to try?”

I nod and copy the circular motions with ease, feeling proud of myself.

“Now for the walnuts and raisins,” he adds with a smile, reaching for a small bowl with them. He hands it to me, letting me add them in. As I fold them into the batter, I can’t help but think of how this bread is more than just food– it’s our history.

Peeta spreads a little flour onto the counter and coats his hands with the white powder. “To stop it from sticking, he explains, “You also can put it on your hands.” He offers the flour to me.

Peeta’s hands move with practiced ease, guiding the dough with firm motions. I try to mimic him, pressing into the dough, but my gaze keeps drifting to his face. He just looks so focused, his eyebrows slightly drawn and his eyes bright.

He glances at me, catching my eye, and smiles, so full of love, that it sends a flutter through my chest. Then, without a word, he reaches over and takes my hand, his fingers warm around mine.

We knead the dough together, our hands moving in sync. The dough takes shape beneath our touch, but it’s the feeling of Peeta’s hand in mine that makes everything feel so perfect. 

We shape the dough into a beautiful loaf, that we admire for a moment. I then notice a small smudge of flour on the counter. Without really thinking, I swipe a bit of it on my finger and, with a mischievous grin, reach over and dab it on Peeta’s nose.

He blinks in surprise, staring at me with wide eyes for a split second before bursting into laughter. The sight of him makes me laugh too, feeling childishly giddy.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that, Katniss,” he says, still grinning, as he wipes his flour-dusted hand across my cheek.

“No!” I whine dramatically, “Now my cheek’s dirty. You need to clean it.”

He leans in and hesitates a moment, checking for my consent, then presses a soft kiss to the area, “Like that?” he murmurs.

“Exactly like that,” I agree. We look back at the loaf. “Now we toast it?” I ask.

He hums in agreement, but his expression turns thoughtful for a moment. “Did you want to invite your family here for this?”

I nod, considering the idea. A small pang hits my heart as I realize I can’t ask him the same question. I see his little frown, and I know exactly what he’s thinking– of his father, his brothers, and how much he wishes they could be a part of this.

“Want Haymitch here?” I ask gently, because despite all his faults, I know we both love Haymitch like family. He’s been through so much with us.

“Definitely,” Peeta replies, his voice warm. “And Effie and Johanna and Finnick and Annie and… you get the point. Is that okay?”

“Of course!” I agree. “It wouldn’t be complete without them.”

After we invite everyone, Peeta and I agree to split up, separately getting cleaned up and dressed while Effie, Johanna and my mother prepare a little area for the toasting.

Once I’ve cleaned my face, I walk in the opposite direction of Peeta, thinking about what I might wear. I probably should have planned that out better, I admit, but it just never came to my mind. 

“Katniss!” Prim calls behind me. I turn around to see her and Annie with equal looks of excitement.

“Come on, Katniss,” Prim says, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward her bedroom at the back of the house. “We’re going to help you get ready.”

“Really?” I smile and Prim gives me a toothy grin as an answer. “Thank you both, but don’t get stressed… it’s all very casual,” I explain.

Prim shares a look with Annie, clearly plotting something in her head. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it simple. You’ll look beautiful, I promise.”

Annie opens Prim’s closet and lays the most gorgeous dress on my bed. It’s a silky, deep green with intricate ivory embroidery tracing leaves, stems, and small outlines of dandelions. The top of the dress heavily decorated with the beautiful design but it fades away toward the bottom. The sleeves are short, flowy, ivory tulle. 

“Wow,” I say, shocked, “How did you get this? Who made it?”

Prim proudly answers, “I expected you would ask Peeta today, so I told Effie and she brought it from the Capitol.”

“It was one of Cinna’s sketches… he has many he wasn’t able to complete but Effie used the plans to make the dress,” Annie elaborates softly.

I run my hand across it. Cinna made this for me. He truly understood me. He believed I would be able to have this ending. That I would succeed. He believed in me.

I feel tears fill my eyes. “Thank you both,” I say overcome with emotion, “This means so much to me.”

Prim wipes my tears gently and I give each of them a tight hug.

Once I’m dressed, they both steps back, looking me up and down. “Beautiful,” Annie smiles. “It fits you perfectly.”

“Now to fix your hair,” Prim says, pulling out supplies. 

She sits me down by the mirror and a look of concentration falls on her expression as her fingers braid a large sections of my hair into an design that feels natural. She weaves in little white forget-me-not flowers into the braid.

Annie, meanwhile, gently applies some makeup to my face. It’s just enough to enhance my features without making me feel like someone else. She lightly brushes blush across my cheeks, adds a touch of color to my lips, and carefully lines my eyes.

“There,” Annie says quietly, “How do you like it?”

I look at my reflection: a girl who looks peaceful and content. And… pretty.

“It’s wonderful,” I say honestly, looking at my sister and my friend, “Thank you both. I don’t know how I can repay you…”

“There’s nothing to repay,” Annie replies gently. “Just enjoy this.”

Prim gives me a final hug, her arms wrapping around me tightly. “I’m so happy for you Katniss,” she whispers, “I know Peeta’s right for you.”

~Peeta POV~

As soon as Katniss and I part ways, I head to the bathroom to clean my face, smiling at the mark she left on me. Then I head to a small room at the back of our house. I have some of my clothes in there, so I try to rack my brain if I left anything in there that’s a little more formal. But I don’t even make it halfway before Finnick catches up, with a confident grin across his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, blocking my path with crossed arms. “You don’t think you’re getting ready for your toasting alone, do you?”

Before I can answer, Haymitch reaches us. “We’re not letting you mess this up,” he says, teasingly. “Come on, let us help.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I can handle getting dressed on my own,” I say.

“Maybe,” Finnick says, slinging an arm around my shoulders and steering me toward the bedroom, “but where’s the fun in that?”

When we reach the room, I find a decent black shirt and jeans and pull them out.

Finnick eyes the clothes and clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “Peeta, this is your toasting . I’ve heard it’s a big deal. You need to look the part.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but what would you suggest instead?” I ask, rummaging through my clothes.

“Wait a second, I think Jo’s bringing something,” he looks at Haymitch who nods in agreement.

After a few moments, we hear Johanna call from the other side of the door, “You better be decent.” Then she yanks it open. She’s holding dark green pants and an ivory button up shirt.

“I’m glad she finally had the courage to ask you, because Blondie, I worry you never would’ve asked,” Johanna smirks.

“That’s probably true,” I concede, laughing along with everyone. The truth is I’m content with however far Katniss is willing to go.

She passes the outfit to me and turns to leave.

“Thanks Baldie,” I say genuinely.

I get dressed, the clothes feeling comfortable. Once I finish, Finnick and Haymitch nod in approval.

“Now, that’s more like it,” Finnick says, his grin widening, “You could consider unbuttoning a few of these though,” he points to the buttons on the shirt.

I chuckle, “No I couldn’t. I can’t steal your iconic style.”

He considers this, “Good point.”

Haymitch studies the outfit, “Not bad at all kid. It fits you well,” he says warmly.

But then Finnick’s eyes light up with another idea. “Your hair,” he says suddenly. “It needs a little something.”

“My hair?” I echo, approaching the mirror, “Doesn’t it look fine?”

“Sure but fine isn’t what your aiming for,” Haymitch smirks.  He grabs a comb and Finnick pulls a chair for me to sit down. Haymitch then carefully combs my hair back using small amounts of gel, his movements practiced and surprisingly gentle. 

Damn , it feels like having my dad here. He used to comb my hair like this, his hands always steady and patient until every strand was in place. I can almost imagine his voice, proudly telling me I looked just like him.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt this connection, and for a moment, I let the memory wash over me. I miss him so much. I wish he could be here. He would like Katniss even more as he got to know her better. 

Haymitch must have noticed a shift in my expression because he pauses. “You okay, kid?” he asks softly.

I swallow hard, nodding. “Mhm, sorry. It just… it reminded me of my dad. He used to do this for me when I was younger.”

Haymitch’s hand rests on my shoulder, “He’d be proud of you, Peeta,” he says quietly. “More than you know.”

Finnick let’s his expression soften, “Yeah. You’re doing good, Peeta. And you’re not alone.”

I smile, blinking away my tears, “I know. Thank you both for being here. It means everything to me.”

Finnick claps me on the shoulder, his usual grin back in place. “She’s going to love it,” he says confidently.

“Yeah kid, she’s already fallen for you. Just go out there and be yourself,” he smiles.

~Katniss POV~

As I step out of the house, Annie and Prim close behind me, I’m hit by the fresh evening air, carrying a faint scent of blooming wildflowers. My breath catches as I see the setup they made. 

This little spot has been transformed. Vibrant wildflowers are everywhere, petals flying in the breeze. Delicate strings of lights are draped, illuminating the space just enough. And there are countless candles around a stone oven. The whole space is magical.

There’s food too which surprises me. Fruit, pastries, and cheeses, are spread along a small table. How did the three of them do this in such a short time?

I spot Peeta near the oven, dressed in a way that brings out his beautiful features. His golden hair is neatly combed back and his blue are alight with excitement.

He lies his eyes on me and everything else fades away. It’s just the two of us, standing here with our hearts racing.

Peeta steps closer, his hand reaching out to mine. “You look beautiful,” he whispers.

“So do you,” I manage to say, feeling my cheeks flush. “This is… amazing.”

“I can’t believe it,” he says, glancing around at the setup. “I didn’t expect all this at all.”

“But you like it?” I check.

“It’s great, but the best part is that you’re by my side,” he grins.

I squeeze his hand gently, and we sit, holding the loaf we prepared together earlier and placing it into the stove.

Peeta clears his throat, “I just want to thank you all for being here. Haymitch, without you, we wouldn’t be here. And you mean so much to us, I can’t even express it.”

He takes a breath and looks to see if I want to speak. “Effie,” I smile, “When I first met you, I quickly judged you. But I was wrong. You’re the sweetest and the most stylish woman I know. You’re family to me.”

Peeta continues, “Prim, the way you’ve accepted and supported me the past few weeks is incredible. I never had a sister growing up, but I’m so excited to be able to know you now. I’m always impressed by your maturity and strength, but also the kindness and empathy in your heart.”

I look to Finnick, Annie and little Aquamarine bundled in their arms, “Finnick and Annie. I’m so happy for you two. Even through everything, you two supported each other and others around you. And Finnick, I don’t know what I might have done without you with me in 13.”

Peeta addresses Johanna, “Jo, I’m so glad you came to 12. I don’t know if I would have ever had the courage to reach out to you. You are one of the strongest people I know, and I’m so so sorry for not supporting you recently. I promise to do better.”

“Mother,” I say, “I’m glad you came back and I missed you. I want to improve our relationship, so I’ll start by thanking you. The conversation we had earlier was hard, but I’m ready to move on now.”

Peeta turns to me his blue eyes glistening, “Katniss, from the moment I met you, you’ve meant everything to me. You’re the reason I have to keep living, you’re the joy in my life, and you’re the comfort I need. I want to spend the rest of my life by your side, supporting and loving you. I want to wake up by your side every morning and fall asleep next to you every night. I want to share every good thing I can with you and to help you with any hardships that ever arise. If you ever need me, I’ll be here. Always, until my dying breath.”

I look into his captivating eyes, reflecting the starry night sky. “Peeta, you mean so much to me, I struggle to explain it. You brighten my life, showing me color even in the most desperate times. You’re my hope, for the present and the future. Someone I know I can rely on, someone I can believe in, someone I want to take care of. With everything you’ve gone through, you’ve remained the most selfless person I’ve ever known. I feel like when I’m with you, I can finally let my barriers down. I want to stay with you, always, until my dying breath.”

With that, we pull out the golden loaf and tear it in half, each of us holding a piece. I take a bite from the half Peeta reaches toward me, savoring the taste and the warmth that spreads through me and getting a sense of deja vu from all those years ago. I extend my half to Peeta and he takes a bite, his eyes never leaving mine.

Time stops. There’s just the two of us. The bread, the wildflowers, the candles– it’s all perfect, but none of it matters as much as the person beside me, the one who makes everything feel complete.

It’s a relief to feel his lips against mine as our family cheers in the background.