The Epilogue - Katniss and Peeta

Convincing.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy." He throws words out aimlessly. "I need you, Katniss. Please, just stay with me."

I know I shouldn't hesitate. He's always stayed with me no matter what. But just for a moment, I picture what it would be like it to say that I can't.

I could never possibly do it, but if I did, would I feel guilty? Would I feel guilty about wanting to leave this world, even if it means he stays?

I lean into his shoulder while shielding my face by burying it in his warm body. My arm wraps around his neck and grips his shirt, and I slightly clench the fabric.

"Why won't you let me go?" I whisper to him, asking for some sort of answer that might lead to why he needs me.

I've never brought anything but hardship to him. I don't deserve him. He skips work just to stay with me, he comforts me throughout my vivid nightmares in the middle of cold nights, and he never gets mad at me. He even hired someone to be at the bakery when he can't, just so that he doesn't have to leave me.  I don't deserve any of it and I never will.

"If I let you go that means I'll have to live without you," he says quietly. "And I don't think I'd be able to do that."

My body stills quickly. He surely can't mean that. It doesn't make any sense. How could he want this? I'm no more than scattered pieces of brokenness, shattered into delicate things that nobody could ever want to fix. I'm unfixable. I'm broken, I'm cursed, I'm—I'm me. I've been this since the first games. I've never gotten my old self back, and I never will.

_

"I'm sorry, but I have to run to the bakery quickly. Saffron said there's an issue—" he mutters quickly while walking past me, where I occupy a small area of the floor.

My knees are still pulled towards my chest and I can feel the residue of the tears on my cheek. Even as it's been more than a few hours, they still have left behind a small feeling on my face.

I nod my head slightly while continuing to listen to him.

"Will you be okay alone for a few hours?" He asks while stepping towards me. When I do nothing more but nod, his face changes.

"I'll be fine." I mutter, trying to calm him.

A moment passes and I see him begin to look out the window towards Haymitch's house.

"Please, don't send anyone to check in." I beg while looking up at him.

His face doesn't move but he crooks his head reluctantly. He leans down to plant a kiss on my head and then makes his way through the door.

As soon as he leaves, I can tell that the ambience changes. All life seems to have left with him, and I don't feel the need to sit by the door anymore. When he's here, I feel as if I'm safe anywhere throughout the house.

But now that he's gone, I'd rather be beside Willow or Rye—whichever one will tolerate me the longest.

I watch them play together as I walk into the room. They are so peaceful and I really do envy their companionship. I wish I could've hugged Prim once last time, embraced her for just a moment. I wish I could've sang for her one last time, even though she was maturing too quickly and could fend off her nightmares alone.

I wish I could've saved her.

If she were still here today, I might have a reason to continue on. If she were here today, I would never let her go; just like how Willow never lets Rye out of her sight.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Willow asks gently. I peer over at her, shaken from my thoughts, and I give a soft smile.

"Yes, I just was thinking about something." I say quietly, picturing Prim's sweet face.

Willow almost resembles Prim identically, except for possessing Peeta's very blue eyes. Her personality also reminds me of her because she is just so selfless and compassionate. I wish I could have half of her personality—maybe I'd be tolerable that way.

After some time passes, Rye leads me upstairs to play with him. Willow is fine with reading alone, so I follow him.

Once we reach his bedroom he runs towards his bed, hoping up onto the side and patting down on the mattress to gesture for me to sit down. I laugh quietly as I obey his commands, sitting down right beside him.

I hear him sigh dramatically and I can't help but smile at him. He's so serious for a six-year-old.

"Mama, what did Dad do?" He asks while looking up at me. The smile clears from my face and I raise my eyebrows in confusion.

"What do you mean?" I ask softly. He shrugs his shoulders, still looking at me.

"He's been making you cry almost every day and it makes me sad seeing you like that." My heart breaks as he finishes his sentence, and I can't help but wonder how long he's been thinking about it.

"I'm so sorry you feel that way, Rye." I start while brushing his blonde curls off of his face, "but Dad hasn't done anything wrong, darling. I cry about other things and he's the one that helps me through it."

I can tell by his face expression that he still doesn't understand clearly.

"Rye, your dad would never do anything to hurt anyone. He's the most selfless person, just like you and Willow. He cares about me more than himself, and never makes me cry. Do you think you understand what I'm trying to say?" I ask towards him.

He nods his head slowly and leans into my chest and I hold him there, rocking back and forth slightly.

"Do you think you could make me a promise, darling?" I whisper towards him. I feel his head move and I take that as an answer. "I want you to promise me that you'll always see Dad as the good parent. I want you to promise me that you'll always trust him and that you'll always appreciate whatever he does for you."

"I promise." He says quietly. I kiss the top of his head, still rocking back and forth, and he speaks up after a while. "Can you sing me a song, Mama?" He asks so gently that it reminds me of Prim.
"Always."

_

He walks through the door after a few hours and my eyes immediately fixate on the white gauze wrapped around his fist and wrist. I quickly get up and make my way towards him before stopping in front of him.

"What happened, Peeta?" I ask while crossing my arms and staring at him.

He hides his arm behind his back and does nothing but give me a smile. His blonde hair falls slightly into his eyes and his ocean-colored eyes look into mine.

"I'm fine, darling." He states while beginning to walk into the kitchen.

I start to reach for his arm but redirect my grasp to his shoulder as I realize the bandage wrapped around him already has a blood-stain soaked through it.

"You're lying to me," I say quietly. "Tell me what happened, now."

"It almost seems as if you're back," he pauses while pulling a pan out of the cabinet. "You're more demanding than you have ever been in the last ten years." He jokes around, but I don't find it funny.

"Peeta," I start with a tone. He gives me a look before looking back down at his arm.

"I accidentally cut myself," he says quietly. "It is nothing more than that."

He never cuts himself.

I've never seen him cut himself so severely while baking. I've seen him accidentally slice a small sliver into his hand, but never like the one he currently possesses. I want to continue this, I want to know what happened, but the look in his eyes just tells me that maybe I should let it go. Leave be a problem for another day.

Too bad I've never listened to anyone else in my life before; the look displayed at me would probably be very convincing.

"Fine," I state while grabbing the keys that he just set down on the side table. "I'll just go ask Saffron. I know for a fact that she's still working."

I begin my way towards the door and I hear him mutter as I near the handle.

"I'll tell you what happened," he yells to me just as I open the door. I freeze where I am and turn around while hiding a smirk.

"If you insist."