Peeta is the first to step off the train. He instantly freezes and clutches his fists. Oh no. I think to myself. I slowly back away and push the kids behind me. He turns around. His eyes were black not blue. He walks towards us but then pauses when I start to sing...
Deep in the meadow
Under the willow
A bed of grass
A soft green pillow
Lay down your head
And close your eyes
And when they open
The sun will rise
Here it's safe
Here it's warm
Here the daisies guard
You from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet
And tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place
Where I love you
He un-clenches his fists and his eyes turn blue again. I slowly inch my way forward, Willow and Rye close behind, and whisper "Peeta" he looks at me with pleading eyes and says "I'm so sorry Katniss" he whispers. I embrace him
"It's okay" I coo "You didn't know"
"No," he says, "I did. Look where we are. This was where I turned into a monster" I looked around. We're at the tribute center. I turn and face him tears in my eyes.
"No" I say "Peeta is not the monster. The mutt left inside you is"
"What would I do without you" he chuckles
"Well, I would go insane and would have probably gone hunter mode on you if I hadn't met you" I say. Haymitch starts dying laughing.
"Well sweetheart you almost did" he said with a sly look on his face. Oh. Now I remember. It was when he pronounced his love to me, the night of the 74 hunger games. I turn back to Peeta.
"I really am sorry about that night. I was scared half to death," I say. Peeta chuckles.
"Well, you probably thought the other half of you would be dead the next day"
he says. Our smiles instantly fade when we realize our kids are standing right there.
"What are you talking about?" Willow says with a bit of sass if I might add.
"Attitude" says Effie. Haymitch chuckles. We are broken from our conversation when a lady walks up to us. I gasp when I see her face. She looks just like, like, Rue.
YOU ARE READING
The Mockingjay Flies Again
FanfictionThis takes place 20 years after the mocking jay ( not the epilogue). Everybody who died is still dead and everybody who is alive is still alive Disclaimer:all rights go to Suzanne Collins