Just a Game {Everlark}

Chapter 3

Shock is my only emotion as I gaze upon the beauty of it. The recently shined headstone, reading my sisters name, covered in beautiful evening primroses that glow yellow, pink, blue and white.
Some grow in little flower boxes at the foot of the grave, but others crawl upwards, framing the sides of the grey stone but leaving the top bare.
"Oh my God." I nearly whisper, taken aback by the beauty of something that should be so sad.
"But..how' I'm never here.." I look up at Peeta in question, to find his eyes nervously trained on mine.
"Do you like them?" He asks me, his soft tone melting what's left of my heart.
"I..I love them. You did this?" I ask him, astounded.
"Yeah..I started a few weeks after the cemetery gathering. I needed something to take my mind off of this." He gestures back toward the town.
"It helped with the bad feelings. If I ever feel a hijacking memory coming up...I come here" Peeta meets my eyes with his own broken ones, and it hardens my resolve to help him mend them.
"This is possibly the loveliest thing that anyone has ever done for me. Thank you." I say, meaning every word.
Relief washes over his handsome face, and a thought flashes through my mind. A memory from long ago.
'You could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him'
Haymitch was right. I don't deserve Peeta and never will, but I can spend the rest of my life trying to.
"I'm glad you like it..really glad, actually. I'd been waiting for the right time to tell you about it." Peeta smiles and my heart beats a little faster.
"You started after the cemetery service..nearly two years ago." I realise.
"Like I said, I've been wanting to tell you." He smiles shyly again, squeezing my hand. "Let's go over."
I let him lead me to the grave, and can now properly appreciate the beauty of the flowers, intricately woven through one another, straining for sunlight.
In the height of the Summer, these flowers are in full bloom, small but plentiful.
Peeta dusts a thin layer of dust from the top of the grave while I read the stone.
'Primrose Everdeen,
died aged 13'
I feel tears spring to my eyes as I read the quote underneath.

'Here is the place where I love you.'

The quote was also Peeta's idea, as he was the only one out of myself, my mother and him who could still function after Prim's passing.

Suddenly, I am struck with the realisation that all of the beautiful things in my life have come as a result of my knowing Peeta and him being in my life.
The realisation does nothing but make me want to be better for him. For me to be able to deserve him in this lifetime.

I turn my attention back to my sisters grave, and slowly sink to my knees in front of it.
It's at that point that I hang my head and, for the first time since my dad passed, pray.

***
After about forty minutes we leave, the small bunch of flowers I had picked from our garden earlier paling in comparison to its stunning counterparts.

As we shut the metal cemetery gates behind us (important to remember to do- on occasion goats have raided the graveyard), I take notice of the sky. Cloudless and picturesquely pale blue, I'm tempted to sit and stare at it all day, but the lake awaits.

Almost giddy, I take Peeta's free hand and lead the way. Birdsong fills the early afternoon air and makes the day even brighter. The pain of visiting my sisters grave still sits in the pit of my stomach but it seems to be ebbing away with every look toward Peeta, who is chatting away excitedly about how great of a day it will be to paint. I know him so well by now that I can see the little colour pallets turning in his head.

We pick our way through the forest, both of us forcing down memories of the games, but this forest seems lighter, maybe because there are not 22 other teenagers in it trying to kill us.

Eventually, we get to the last hill that separates us from the lake. It's always quite a trek with that damned leg of Peeta's.
"I sometimes wish they hadn't given me a replacement." He huffed as he detangled the prosthetic creation from yet another protruding tree root.
"I'm sorry, Katniss. I'm slowing us down" He exhales deeply and keeps pace with me once more.
I lace my fingers back with his and look at him.
"It's not your fault. Besides, it's kinda funny when you get stuck. You get all grumpy." I laugh, somewhat out of character for me.
Peeta mock-pouts and I laugh harder, and squeal when he drops the bags and lifts me up over one broad shoulder in a fireman's lift. I often forget how strong he is, even with one leg. He easily holds me in place with one arm as I laugh so hard tears well in my eyes, completely trusting him to catch me if I fall.
"Set me down at once! This is very improper!" I do my best Effie impression and I can feel the laughter vibrate through his chest at my imitation.
"Ah, hell, woman. Where the hecks' my scotch?" Peeta slurs back at me in a perfect Haymitch imitation.

We continue the charade as he picks up the bags again and continues up the hill, me in tow.
"Well really, I would've expected better. What will the dignitaries think? You are embarrassing us all." I can't contain my laughter as Peeta stops and stomps his foot, dropping our poor bag once more.
"I am a grown man, woman. I can drink as I please. I suggest you do the same. Loosen your corset, have a drink." He directly quotes our mentor in the last part, which doesn't help my state. I'm confident that if I weren't being carried for all this, I'd be in a heap on the floor.

Peeta laughs again, and I don't have to see him to know he has a playful grin on his face.
"Well Princess" he states gruffly, still in character. He swings me gently back to my feet, both hands on my waist.
"I like you better without all that makeup on." He grins at me, breaking character.
"And I prefer you sober" I reply in Effie's clipped tone before breaking character too, collapsing in to his chest. He wraps his strong arms around me and I wind my own arms around him.
We're both still recovering from our laughing fit, the last strains of laughter escaping our smiling mouths. I close my eyes as I lean against him, enveloped both by his hug and comforting scent, like fresh bread and soap.
He pulls back and puts his hands on my shoulders.
"C'mon, princess" he teases. "We'd better get to the lake."

--
Heyo :)
Shorter chapter today (I think- I can never tell how long they are till they're published).
Thank you for the votes and reads, it makes me super happy to know people are reading :)
Love,
Jocelyn x