Our Love is Complete

Chapter 1

"Mommy! Look what I found!"

My four year old daughter Willow frolicks in the Meadow collecting flowers. I sit criss-cross as she runs over. She has a butterfly on her wrist.
"Oh, sweetheart, it's beautiful! Where'd you find it?" I ask her. She points behind her, as if I know exactly where she's talking about.
"There! I was picking daisies and it landed on one and I picked it up. It's so red and pretty. Daddy, look!"
I turn around and Peeta bounds into the field. He smiles at us and runs towards Willow, chasing after her. The butterfly takes off, flitting around them as Peeta picks her up and whirls her around.
"You're a bird! You're a bird!" he chants. Willow laughs and hollers, "I'm a mockingjay!"
Peeta freezes and sets her down. His smile lessens. "Yes, you are, my dear. A beautiful one too. Just like your mother."
Willow spins around and runs towards me, enveloping me in a hug.
"Oh, Willow! You're a beautiful bird." I say. I comb my fingers through her hair and brush it behind her ears. Her big blue eyes gaze at me.
"Mommy, you're hair is so pretty. Why do you always have it in a braid? You should take it out."
With that, she quickly undoes the rubber band in my hair and lets it loose.
"Willow..." I start. Then a wind picks up and it whips up our hair. We laugh together.
"See, Mommy?" Her little hands touch my hair. "It's so pretty!"
I chuckle, and catch Peeta staring.
"Come here," I tell him, and scooch over. With that, he gets up and sits next to me, positioning his bad leg so he can sit right. I nestle my head in the crook of his neck and he kisses my head.
"Go collect more flowers for the kitchen, little bird," Peeta tells Willow.
"Okay!" she says happily and skips away. The sun is just starting to set over the hills in the distance. Peeta focuses his eyes on mine.
"I hope you know how lucky I feel to have her," he whispers.
I smile and look down at my feet.
"I am too. All the pain in the past was worth it. I hope you know I don't regret a bit of it."
"I do. I don't regret it either. Even in the Capitol in that cell, you were the only thing keeping me going. I always heard the guards. They said everyday, how the hell is this kid still going? And I always said to myself, it's her. It's that braid and your voice and I was so afraid I wouldn't see it or hear it again and-"
"Peeta."
He sighs. "It's all true, though. It is and I will tell you everyday."
"I believe you because I feel it too."
He nods, his forehead rubbing against mine.
"Look at that sunset," he says, pointing.
The memory surfaces and I can't help but smile. He lays his head in my lap and I brush the curls off his face as he talks about painting scenery. I keep a close eye on Willow, who's starting to get a little too far away for my comfort.
"Willow!" I call out. I see her face turn towards mine and she comes running with about twenty flowers in her hand.
"I got some more!" she yells.
"I see that," Peeta says, sitting up. He kisses me quick on the cheek and picks up Willow and her flowers.
"Come on, we're going to go home now. I have some nice, warm cinnamon sugar bread on the counter for dessert if you finish your stew."
That's all it takes for Willow. She takes off running, calling out for the whole district to hear, "Stew! Stew! Stew! Stew!"
I take Peeta's hand and we stroll along listening to her voice. I laugh.
"She's sounds like me about the lamb stew."
Peeta smiles. "Ah, yes. Those days. Sitting around the TV in the screening room with our buddies Effie and the drunk, sipping our hot chocolate and inhaling our stew."
"Hey, it was good stuff!" I counter.
"T'was. Now, who's going to chase down that child before she skips past our house and wakes half the neighborhood?"
I break into a sprint, a sprint that I only saved for running from Cato or chasing after fresh game in an open field. I hear Peeta's footsteps behind me and it's too soon when his hands wrap around my waist and he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh as much as a puppy. We're both laughing and I can hear Willow's voice getting closer. Peeta catches the collar of her shirt just as she's about to walk past our doorstep.
"No, no, this is the door," Peeta instructs.
"Whoops!" she says as she parades through the door and right to the fridge. Peeta sets me down in the kitchen and rewards me with a long, passionate kiss. His lips are warm and soft and he places his hands on my hips. I pull back and wrap my legs around him giving him a hug. He takes a deep breath, breathing in my scent and I him. Cinnamon and yeast fill my nose. I move my head so my forehead rest against his and I say, "I love you."
I gaze into his eyes and that same hunger of need from the beach fills me. He must notice it too because he tells me the same then pecks me in between the eyebrows. He mumbles, "Later."
"Mommy! I want my stew!" Willow yells angrily. I laugh and Peeta sets me down. I sit down at the table feeling wobbly for some reason. Peeta has an effect no one else can have on me.
"Of course, sweetheart. What stew would you like? We have beef, lamb, duck, and turkey."
"Lamb!" she exclaims. He smiles, surely thinking of me.
"Would you like plumbs in it?" he says, opening the can at the sink.
"Please," Willow replies.
It only seems like five seconds when Willow finished her stew and we're heading up to bed. She holds Peeta's hand and I trail behind them.
"Help me pick out my pajamas, Daddy," she says pleadingly as she pulls him with both hands into her room. Peeta looks at me and I nod.
"I'll kiss you goodnight after I take a shower, Willow, okay?" I kiss her head and she agrees. I walk to the bathroom and submerge myself in a bath. I sigh. A smell of oranges and blackberries fills the room from the hair products. I get out after ten minutes and towel myself dry and throw a nightgown on. I go to Willow's room and find her in her bed looking at a picture. It's not just any picture. It's the picture Haymitch gave Peeta and me at Willow's baby shower.
"Mommy, is this you and Daddy?" she points.
"Yes. And that's Auntie Effie and that's Uncle Haymitch."
"Oh," she says thoughtfully. I can see the wheels turning in her head.
"Where were you?"
"We were in the Capitol on a...trip." I don't give details. I can't tell her yet.
"Was it a nice trip? The trips we take are always nice."
"Well..." I trail off. I start to choke up. "It wasn't my favorite trip. I've had better ones."
"Oh," she says again.
Then she flips over and nestles herself into bed. I sing her Deep in the Meadow and her eyes start twinkling. "I love the Meadow," she says, yawning."
"I do too," I said, brushing her thick hair off her forehead. She starts to drift off and I kiss her forehead. "Good night, my little bird." I get up and close the door. Peeta's waiting on the other side. He takes my hand and we get into bed together. I cuddle up next to him and take in his heat. It feels so good. So impossibly good...