Touch

It's foolish looking back now. She had never thought of me that way before, but it didn't make a difference seeing as though I thought of it that way. I knew it was an act, but I figured with death so inevitable I may as well get my first kiss in the meanwhile. Looking at it now, my uncharacteristic courage is what got me here today. I let go of Gardenia's hand and lifted her onto my hip. I hope she gets my courage and her mother's bravery. She certainly looked like me, but I liked to deny it to Katniss on the fact that her beauty could have only come from her.

I remembered the first step I made to this future. It was one hand movement. I still remember her adept little fingers wrapping themselves within my own. I remembered her rough skin and the way she hung onto me for dear life. For the first time in my life, I felt proud. Proud that it could be me, not Gale protecting her. Not only that, but everyone saw us. We weren't hiding out in the forest together, everyone saw. That was pretty much our entire relationship and even in the arena when we were alone, everyone saw. Still, it was easy to forget that.

Our moments "alone" were still among my favorites. Our first kiss. My first kiss still burned into my mind. How quickly it could have turned into more, how much I wished it would. In the Quarter Quell our alone time grew to be more special. Each time we got into trouble her genuine concern was the only thing that kept me going.

When she lost me, or rather I lost her, there was a length of time that I felt like part of me was missing, there was a feeling of mass confusion and pain. I felt that I lashed out at those I love. There wasn't anything I could have done to prevent the hijacking, but I could have moved the process along by believing in all that she had done for me.

"Can I have a cookie?" Nia begged, her tiny whining voice, so precious to me, reminding me of why I had fallen for her mother. I hadn't the slightest idea what she thought of me at the time but in the games my love for her was as genuine s it was now. I looked into the bright blue eyes of my daughter and lifted her onto the counter. She giggled, a sound I'd only heard her mother make a couple of times.

"Sure Princess," I replied, kissing her on the cute, little, button nose. She violently shook her head.

"No! I'm not a princess, Daddy," she insisted.

"Then what are you?" I asked Nia, hoping she would actually answer rather than dividing her attention amongst other places.

"I want to be a hunter like Momma!" she exclaimed, miming having a bow and shooting the cookie jar.

"Looks like you've caught a chocolate chip, Little Hunter."

She giggled yet again.