Begin Again [Wattys 2013 Finalist]

Chapter 43

I wake up before Peeta, just after dawn. I hear birds chirping and I smell dew. I lift my head off of his chest and feel grass tickling my arm.

"Where am I?" I whisper.

As I sit up slowly to avoid waking him, I remember. I let my muscles relax, knowing that I am safe. I cross my legs and fiddle with a dandelion as I listen to the sweet sound of the birds chirping as their voices echo through the forest. I glance at Peeta to make sure that he is asleep and then, for the first time in a long time, I let my voice join that of the birds. I slowly whistle four notes and immediately after, the mockingjays whistle back. Then I start to sing. My voice cracks at the first notes, but as I continue to sing, the mockingjays pick up my song. I get all the way through The Hanging Tree before I notice Peeta sitting up next to me. I let my head drop onto his shoulder as he mumbles,

"Good morning."

"Yesterday was the best birthday ever," I tell him.

"Oh! I forgot to give this to you!" He says reaching into his pocket.

He pulls out a necklace and puts it in my hand. I recognize the jewel immediately. It's the pearl he gave me on the beach in the arena. The one that I kept in my pocket everyday that I spent without him. I remember putting it on the dresser when I moved in with him, but I still gasp and say,

"Where did you find it?"

"On your dresser the day that you moved in. I couldn't believe that you kept it."

"Of course I kept it," I say, blushing a little bit of the embarrassment that I was that attached to it.

"Well now you can wear it."

"It's perfect."

Peeta reaches for me and lightly brushes my hair to the side of my neck. I had it down last night, which is rare for me. I feel little sparks of electricity where his fingers make contact with the soft skin on my neck. He clasps the necklace on and I touch the pearl where it rests low on my chest.

"Wanna head home?" He asks. 

"I wanna stay here forever."

He laughs and pulls me up from the ground. We pack up the stuff and start the long walk back home. When we're almost out of the woods, I pull Peeta with me deeper in instead of exiting.

"Where are we going?" He asks.

"You'll see."

I have a sudden urge to show him something personal from my childhood. I want him to see the place I grew up. I want him to know everything about me. It's something I never expected that I would want. I want to open up to him. My walls are tumbling down, and it feels good. So I take him to the place where I used to go to hunt, grabbing my bow from where it still rests in the hollowed out tree. I show him the little house in the woods that managed to survive the bombing. And when hours have passed spent walking through the woods where I grew up, we finally head home around lunchtime. As I unpack the picnic basket I hear Peeta say,

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Letting me in."

"Thanks for waiting so long.”