A Thousand Years

Chapter 1

I wake up and the other side of the bed is cold.

Peeta must have woken up hours ago, before the sun rose.

I begin to wonder where he could be. It is Sunday, May 8th, my 26th birthday.
He promised to take the day off from his work at the bakery today to celebrate.

Suddenly, my nose begins to tingle with delight as I smell my favorite sweet treat.

Cinnamon rolls.

Peeta made them for me all the time after we first got married when we were 19.

He has always had the slight scent of cinnamon. Even the first time I met him, I smelt a hint of the spice on his clothing.

I get up from the bed and slip on a knee-length sweater to cover my silk pajama shorts and tank top.

I quietly make my way down the stairs and see Peeta setting the table. He sets the plate of cinnamon rolls in the middle when he spots me.

"Good morning, sunshine." He says sweetly, extending his arms out to me.

Without hesitation I walk straight into them and I am embraced with his warmth.

His hand runs through my hair as I keep my face buried in his shoulder.

He plants a gentle kiss on the top of my head that makes me feel at peace in his strong arms.

I look up at him and place a kiss on his lips before walking to the table where my breakfast of fruit and cinnamon rolls awaits.

Suddenly, I see that he has placed a vase of flowers on the table as well. Not just any flowers though. Primroses.

Tears well up and threaten to fall from my eyes as I look at their light pink color.

I sit in front of them, smelling the sweetness that comes from them, and taste the delicious cinnamon as I take a bite.

"Thank you," I say, my mouth stuffed with the sweet roll.

"You're welcome," He says with a small smile plastered on his face. "Happy birthday, my love."

I smile at his words before finishing off my breakfast.

Once we have both finished, he suggests we go out for a walk, as today is the warmest day yet this year.

I wear a flowy yellow blouse and dark blue pants. Although I have never been one to have a keen fashion sense, the Capitol has affected my choices so I look more presentable. In the past 10 or so years, the society there has significantly changed. People no longer have dyed skin and crazy wigs. The clothing can still sometimes be a bit outrageous, but it's definitely improved from the first time I went there all those years ago.

We walk through the gravel streets of District 12, close enough to the forest that if I sprinted, l would be there in 3 minutes.

I do miss going there sometimes, but I find time in my busy life to visit.

Peeta slows his pace as we near the Meadow. He looks into it and I follow his gaze.

I look up at his longing eyes and he watches the small children run around happily. A pang of guilt travels through my whole being.

I have always been afraid of having children and simply not having enough time for them.

But as I look at my husband, gazing at them from the road, I suddenly feel a longing for them, too. I keep an eye on all of them out there, giggling and running around.

Peeta looks down at me with joyful eyes and I smile up at him, kissing his soft lips.

Later that night, I begin thinking as we lay in bed together. The sun set hours ago and our room is dark and chilly.

I face the outside of the bed, as does Peeta, and our backs are pressing against each other.

I can tell he isn't sleeping, as his breaths are too fast to be asleep.

I begin thinking about the children in the Meadow earlier today, and the way Peeta looked at them.

Thoughts of me having children begin filling my mind. What would they look like? Would they have Peeta's kind heart and be great with words, just like he is? Would they have a love for the woods and be stubborn but caring, like me?

I think more about what my future would be like with children of my own. Spending countless hours together in the Meadow on a summer night, bundling up and running through the snow together, sitting by a warm fire, Peeta telling them magical stories.

As this thought comes to me, I think of what would happen when I told them about my dark past, and how it was I that set our county back on the right foot.

Or how their father was taken from me all those years ago, then set to murder me. How, even if they were old enough, would they handle it?

I guess it could be a good thing, too, knowing that even through all of our troubles in the past, we managed to get back together and start our lives over. It would teach them the great lesson of hope and teach them not to give up on the goals they set for theirselves and their loved ones. Just like me.

I would want to share all the joyful moments I experienced with Peeta, their father, so long ago.

Like the sweet kiss on that beach when we were so young. That's where it started.

That's when I knew that nothing would be able to take him away from me. Until the Capitol did.

Disturbing images of my past flash through my mind. Lonely nights in the forest arena, nights where I thought I would lose all hope, mutts, past nightmares I've had, Peeta in the Capitol, the nights where I lie alone in my bed, without him there to keep me safe.

How would I explain to my children about all these horrific events? Would they be able to handle it?

Then I start thinking about all the good things. Gale and his wife Ivy have three children already. Ivy and I have had conversations about children before; she asked if I had ever thought about having them. Of course, at the time, I'd said no. I didn't want children nor did I think I needed them, I'd said, because I had Peeta. And he was all I needed. That's what I thought.

But then, she showed me a picture from a few moments after her daughter Lila was born. Ivy had looked so happy, and that's when she told me that even through all of it, the prize at the end of the journey is worth every ounce of pain and hardships. She had told me that there was nothing better than holding your child for the very first time. After you've been so protective of it for nine months, you are grateful and feel more blessed than ever to finally feel them.

These thoughts cross my mind as I imagine what it would be like to hold my child for the first time. Or seeing him or her enter the world. Or open it's eyes for the first time, knowing that I have been carrying them around for three months shy of a year.

I wonder what it would be like to feel my baby's skin for the very first time. The one who I had protected for so long.

Children of my own. What a wonderful idea that sounds like.

By now, Peeta is sound asleep and I've spent a good hour thinking.

"Peeta," I whisper, facing him once again, his face now close to mine.

His eyes gently flutter open.

"Peeta," I whisper again.

"Yes, Katniss?" He whispers in reply, combing his gentle fingers through my hair.

"I'm ready." I say tentatively.

"Ready for what, love?"

"I'm ready to be a mother."