I wake up the sound of Peeta's screams. I sit upright, turning to face Peeta. His hands are rammed into the sides of his head. He lets out another scream.

I touch his shoulder. "Peeta? Peeta, you're alright, don't worry—"

I get cut off as he pulls me in, his arms in a vice-like grip around me. "No," he whimpers, "I won't let you hurt her, let her go, let her go!"

"I'm right here, Peeta," I sigh, trying to stay patient, "I'm right here."

"But…I can't see you!"

"That's because you're holding me…extremely tight."

His arms go limp around me, and I pull away, looking into his blue eyes. "See? I'm right here."

He takes my hand. "He took you away! He tortured you and made me watch! He—"

I place my lips on his, cutting him off. "He did nothing; it was a dream."

His arms wrap around me. "I've waited too long," he mutters to himself, "I have to do it now."

"Do what now?" I ask.

"But I had it planned!" he doesn't seem to hear me, and keep talking to himself, "Yes, but what if she gets taken away? She won't. Yes, I know, but…I'm doing it now."

I am seriously about to get medical attention when he leaps out of bed. He takes my hand. "Come with me. I…I have to ask you something."

I pull my hand away. "It's the middle of the night, Peeta. It can wait until tomorrow."

His pleading eyes bore into mine. "It can't! It's really important. Please, Katniss?"

I sigh, but oblige, climbing out of bed. "It better be."

He takes me to the kitchen. The soft wind breezing through the window combined with the smell of fresh bread always calms Peeta down. He takes me to the window. I lean against him, taking in the sweet scent of primroses.

"Let's go back to bed, Peeta." I urge.

He shakes his hand, turning to face me. His blue eyes look at me intensely. "Katniss," he says, "What if it happens again?"

"What if what happens again?"

"My hijacking," he says, "Not flashbacks, but the actual thing."

I wave a hand, dismissing his words. "It won't happen." I won't let it. I can't let it.

He takes my hands in his own. "If it does, Katniss? If it does?"

"It won't," I say firmly, "It hasn't happened for almost four years. It won't happen now. It can't happen now."

His eyes are frantic. "What if they take you from me?"

In a playful voice, I answer, "When has anyone done something without my say, Peeta? I'm not leaving you. You're not getting away from me that easily."

"I love you."

I look up, startled. Peeta's eyes are shining with tears. "I love you, Katniss," he repeats, "I love you so, so much."

"I…love you too?" My confused voice sounds more like a question.

"Katniss," he says, "I want to ask you before it's too late. I've loved you since we were kids, I love you more than ever right now, and I'll love you for always. And…the Capitol took away so much…I don't want to lose you...I…"

Apparently, Peeta Mellark is stumbling over his words. "Peeta?"

"Willyoumarryme?" He rushes out, beet red.

"What?" I ask, perplexed.

"Will you marry me, Katniss?"

It takes me a second to process his words. When I do, my eyes widen; my breath hitches. I find that my hands are pressed tight against my mouth. Peeta just asked me to marry him. Me. Marry. But I can't! I can't marry, I can't have kids.

Peeta's face crumples. "Please don't say 'no'," he says, his voice hurt, "Please don't. I don't think I can bear…just…turn around, go back to bed, I'll be there in a few. We'll…we'll pretend this never happened." He turns around, a tear sliding down his cheek. "Go to bed, Katniss. I'm coming."

"Yes." The word slips out without my consent. But once it's out, it feels oddly freeing. Peeta isn't asking for kids, I love him more than the world, so it only makes sense to make our relationship official. I mean, isn't that what marriage is? The bond I have with Peeta is stronger than marriage. Getting married is just…official.

With this realization, I repeat myself, louder and more confident. "Yes."

Peeta turns around, a mystified look in his eyes. "Yes?"

I nod. "Yes, Peeta. I…I will marry you."

It takes him a second for my words to sink in. Then, words cannot describe Peeta's face. Its brighter than any star in the sky, happier than I've ever seen him. In a flash, he lifts me up by the waist, spinning me around.

I grab onto Peeta, shrieking. Peeta just sounds maniacal. He's laughing and crying at the same time. He then puts me down, pulling me close. Peeta starts whispering things in my hair, nonsense words, and the only one I can make out is "love".

Suddenly, Peeta's arms go stiff around me. My breath catches, realizing its his hijacking. Anger boils in my veins. The Capitol has already taken so much; cant they let us have this moment of happiness?

But when Peeta pulls away, his eyes aren't eerie black, but frantic blue. "The ring!" he exclaims, "The ring, where's the ring?"

I look at him, perplexed. "How would I know?"

His face crumples. "Oh, no!"

"Did you buy one?"

"Of course, I did! I bought it a year ago –"

"A year!" I shake my head, "You really are something." I realize Peeta has started to tremble with worry. "Peeta, it's alright. I don't need a ring to get married."

"I know, but…" he looks dejected. Suddenly, his face lights up. "Oh, I remember! I was looking at it while baking today. I was kneading the dough with one hand, ring in the other, you suddenly came in, and…"

I look at Peeta and see that he has made the same conclusion as me. He walks to the counter, picking up the loaf of bread he had made this morning, and breaks it into two. There, glinting in the moonlight, lays my ring.

I have to laugh. "You baked my ring?"

Peeta holds his head. "Aw, man."

I chuckle, plucking the ring out. I hold it up to the moonlight. A beautiful white pearl is inlaid the center – with a gasp, I realize it is my pearl, the one from the Quell – and engraved in the band is a single word: Always.

My eyes tear up inexplicably. "Peeta," I whisper, "This…this is beautiful!"

He frowns. "Yeah, but…" he sighs, "Katniss, I had this all planned out. We would have a picnic in the meadow. A bit of squirrel meat, cold lemonade, and cake. Your hair would stream out behind you, you would get frosting on your nose…and then, in the sunset, I would ask you to marry me, and then you would say yes, and we would kiss, then we would—"

I press my lips against his, cutting him off. "Peeta, this is perfect." And it is. The sweet breeze, the primroses swaying in the wind (I almost feel like Prim is smiling at us right now), the smell of fresh bread, the beautiful ring, and Peeta. My Peeta.

"Really?" he asks, his eyes lighting up.

"Of course." I say. I realize his cheeks are still wet. I use a hand to wipe the tears off. "Don't cry."

He cups my hand, handing me the bread. "So…fireplace?"

Suddenly, the full impact of what I agreed to hits me. Fireplace. Toasting. We're getting married.

I think about mussed-up braid; my wrinkled nightgown. I look at Peeta's ruffled hair and his flour stained shirt. If I'm getting married, I want it to be a memory, not something done on the spur of the moment.

"Peeta," I say, "We…we're getting married. Shouldn't we, I don't know, invite some people? My mother? Make it a memory?"

He smiles. "Exactly what I was thinking."

"It can't be too big," I warn, "Imagine if the Capitol hears of it…" We both shudder, and I imagine a huge TV event complete with Capitol freaks to be the guests of honour. Not happening.

"We need to start planning," Peeta says, his eyes twinkling with excitement, "The food, the arrangements, the guests—"

"Whoa, there," I laugh, "It's the middle of the night. We should get to bed."

"I know, but…" he sighs in bliss, "I'm going to bed with my wife. Peeta Mellark is going to bed with his wife, Katniss Mellark. Katniss Mellark. Mr. and Mrs. Mellark. Peeta and Katniss Mellark. Oh, look, there goes the Mellarks!"

I jab him with my elbow, but I can't help but chuckle. Peeta is so excited for this. It's like he was waiting his whole life for this day or something.

When we settle into bed again, Peeta wraps his arms around me. The last thing I hear before drifting off to sleep is, "I'm never letting you go."

We settle on a date the next day: June 1st. There isn't any particular reason, other than it's the first day of a summer month, and that Peeta had baked his first cake on this day (I have no idea how he remembers). The date gives us less than two weeks to get everything ready.

The weeks pass by in a rush of activity. Every day I go to bed feeling stressed, dreading the actual day. Peeta is so happy, though. He now whistles to work, kisses me randomly, laughs for no reason. He's in absolute rapture.

The guest list brings trauma. Most people we want to invite has passed away. I am on the verge of tears when Peeta says, "Don't worry. I'll take care of it." After this, he disappears into his makeshift studio every day, painting for long hours.

In the end, we decide that Haymitch and various other neighbours will be invited. I inch towards my phone and call my mother. There are tears. On a whim, I call Annie. She's delighted, and tells me she will be here. On this note, I call Delly Cartwright, although I cannot reach her and leave a message. My eyes linger on Johanna's number, but I change my mind.

Inviting neighbours isn't easy. The first one I run into is Sae. I tell her, "Can you and your granddaughter come to my place on June 1st?"

"Whatever for?" she asks.

I shift uncomfortably. "Peeta…Peeta and I…we're getting married." I rush out.

There is a moment of silence. Then, Sae's arms are wrapped around me. "I knew you'd come around," she whispers. "Of course I'll come, hon."

The others are similar, except some don't hug, they grin, they laugh, they squeal, and in the case of Haymitch, "It's about damn time."

The food is no problem. Peeta stays up long hours, frosting into the night, and sometimes I help him. He won't let me see our wedding cake, though. "It's a surprise," he tells me.

Clothes aren't a problem, either. I usually don't worry about what I wear, but then, I spend two hours shifting through my closet, trying on all the dresses I had left from the Victory Tour. I finally decide on a light, evergreen dress. Peeta has a tie to go with it.

We rearrange the living room, pushing back couches to make room. Peeta finds silver balloons in the guest room, and those go up. I frown at the walls. "It still seems so bare."

He kisses my cheek. "Come back from hunting. You'll see."

When I get back, Peeta's hands cover my eyes. "What are you doing?" I snap.

"Shh," he says, "I'll show you." He walks me to the living room, then removes his hand. I gasp.

Portraits fill the walls. Rue, Finnick, Prim, my father, Peeta's parents, his brothers, Cinna…

"Oh," I say, hands raising to my mouth. Tears sting my eyes.

"This way," Peeta says softly, "They can be at our wedding."

I bury my face in his chest, putting my arms around him. "Thank you. It's perfect." It really is.

The night before the wedding, we go over final preparations. When we have checked off the last thing, a smile spreads over my face. I am now beginning to feel the excitement, instead of the worry. It's our wedding tomorrow. We're getting married.

A jittery Peeta awakes me the next day. "Katniss," he calls.

I sit up, then flop back down. "It's barely dawn, Peeta."

"Your mother is here."

This time I shoot up in bed. There she stands in the doorway, holding a small purse, smiling nervously. Peeta silently leaves.

She enters and wraps her arms around me, holding me for a long time. Tears are streaming down her face. When she pulls away, her face is shining with joy. "Katniss," she whispers, "I'm so happy for you. It seemed like only yesterday…" she trails off, her eyes unfocused.

"Mother?"

She gives her head a little shake. "Right. Come, I'll help you get dressed."

The whole morning, I feel sixteen years old. My mother runs a bath, scrubbing my skin and washing my hair. Next, she helps me into my dress. Her hands hover above my head. "What should I do to your hair?"

I shrug. "Anything." How my hair looks is of the least importance to me.

She nods, and starts parting my hair. Soon, my hair is in the same braided hairdo as it was in my first Games. She brushes the loose hairs into place.

"There," she says, "You look beautiful."

I don't have a smidge of Capitol makeup on, but for the first time since the Games, I feel as radiant as the sun. A smile takes over my face.

She opens her small bag, and takes something out. She holds it out to me. I peer at it. It's a necklace, with a golden chain and turquoise gem as a locket.

"Here," she says, "This was what I wore when I got married to your father. It's yours, now. I know it doesn't quite match your dress…"

"No, it's perfect," I say, smiling. "Thank you."

"Let me help you put it on," my mother says. Soon, the turquoise jewel is shining on my neck.

My mother leaves the room, saying she will be back in a second. When she comes back, she's smiling. "Everyone's here, Katniss. You have to go down, now."

It was a District 12 tradition. The groom cannot see the bride until all the guests are here. Only the mother, or the closest female relative, can.

I take a deep breath. Mother adjusts my dress one last time, then we walk down the stairs. As we near the living room, I can hear chatter and laughter from inside. When I enter, it falls silent. All eyes are on me, but I'm only looking at Peeta. He exhales sharply, his mouth parting slightly. Then, an expression of pure happiness overtakes his face. His eyes tear up slightly, as do many others'. I walk to him, and he takes my hand. "Beautiful," he whispers.

We make our way to the table, where a tall man with glasses stands. "Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen are getting wed, today," he intones, "To make your bond official, put your right hand over your heart and say, 'Together for always'."

I do as he tells me, chorusing, "Together for always."

"Please sign the papers on the dotted line."

I take the pen. Signature here, signature there, and then it's done.

"I hereby declare you husband and wife." The man ends. There are a few sniffles from those in the room. Peeta's face is positively glowing with happiness, so much that I start to grin. He places a soft kiss on my lips.

The next hour is spent going from people to people, saying "hello" and just catching up. Not once does Peeta leave my side. We meet Annie and her six year old son, who looks like a copy of his father. Delly Cartwright made it, after all, so we exchange small talk with her. We go to various neighbours and friends, chattering away. Each person's face is lit up in elation, and their happiness makes the smile on my face get wider and wider.

After a couple of hours, the shoemaker has a surprise for us all: he brings out a fiddle, and starts playing. Everyone in District 12 knows this tune. We get in a circle, and start dancing, showing off our footwork (though Peeta falls about a dozen times). By the time the song is done, I don't know what hurts more: my feet from all the dancing, or my stomach from all the laughing.

"And now," the shoemaker says, "It's time for a slow one for the bride and groom." With a start, I realize that he means us.

The floor clears. When the fiddle starts, our eyes widen in pleasant surprise. It's the tune for foxtrot. Peeta and I dance, laugh, and there is a lot of dipping. When we're done, everyone breaks out into applause.

The next hour is spent dancing. When everyone is exhausted, Peeta and I bring out the food. Everyone perks up at the ornately decorated cookies, cupcakes, and pastries. That's when Peeta brings out the wedding cake. I gasp along with everybody else.

The cake has only two tiers, but it is absolutely exquisite. Flowers of all types grow out of the white cake: tiger lilies, primroses, violets, pansies, lavenders, daffodils, and dandelions, though dandelions aren't flowers. The plants look so real, that if it weren't for the secret hours spent in the kitchen, I would've thought Peeta had just plucked them from the flower bed.

"Thank you," I whisper to him, eyes tearing up.

He just squeezes my hand back. He doesn't need to reply.

The party lasts long into the night. People start trickling out around ten. By eleven, no one but Haymitch, my mother, Annie and her son is left.

Haymitch, drunk as ever, leaves a sloppy kiss on my cheek. "About time, sweetheart," he says, then stumbles out the door.

Annie and her son are next. "Thank you, Katniss," she says, smiling, "This was the most fun I've had in a long time."

"Come anytime, Annie." Peeta smiles. Her son taps Peeta on the knee. "Yes?"

"Can I have the rest of the cookies?"

Peeta grins while I chuckle. "Sure you can. I'll put them in a bag for you."

After they leave, my mother is left. One look in her eyes and I know that she isn't staying. Peeta doesn't know this. He takes my mother's arm. "Come on, Mrs. Everdeen. I'll show you to the guest room. We'll clean up here and call you down for—"

My mother shakes her head. "Thank you, Peeta. But I'm not staying."

A crease appears on Peeta's forehead. "But—"

"I have to go back to work," Mother says, "They need me."

That's not true. She doesn't want to stay – cant stay – because of the ashes. The ashes of Prim, of my father's. I almost get angry. I was seventeen when I had to stay here alone with the memories. She was off in District 4, burying herself in work. Did she once think about to me?

I take a deep breath. I cannot, will not, get mad at my mother on my wedding day. Before Peeta can protest, I say, "If you want to go, Mother, you can."

She nods. "Thank you." She steps in front of Peeta, and places a hand on his chest. "Take care of Katniss," her voice cracks, "She's the only thing I have left."

Peeta places a hand on his heart. "Don't worry, Mrs. Everdeen. Her life is above my own."

Mother hugs Peeta. She then looks at me. "I'm so happy for you, Katniss," she whispers, "I'm sorry I can't stay." This time, I give her the hug. She places a kiss on my cheek, then she's gone into the night.

I wrap my arms around Peeta, resting my head on his chest. His arms wrap around me, and I feel the steady beat of his heart. I will always have Peeta. No matter what.

We do not worry about cleaning up. I sit in front of the fireplace, and soon, Peeta arrives. He holds something out to me.

"Cheese buns!" I say, "We're toasting cheese buns?"

Peeta smirks. "A twist of tradition for a very extraordinary couple."

I roll my eyes. "Where did you get that of off? TV?"

"No, I thought of it myself."

"Mmm hmm."

Suddenly, there is a nudge at my foot. I look down and see Buttercup. "You," I growl, "not now—"

"Katniss," Peeta scolds, "He's part of our family."

I roll my eyes. I suddenly realize he is carrying something in his mouth. He sets it by my feet and gives a meow. I gasp softly. It's a dandelion.

Only Peeta knows what this means to me. He wordlessly takes it and places it in my hair. "There," he whispers, "now you look perfect."

Buttercup looks at me with his brown eyes. Maybe you aren't useless at everything, I think. He curls up beside my feet with another meow.

"Ready?" Peeta asks.

I take a deep breath. "Ready."

And with that, Peeta and I plunge our cheese buns into the fire. There it toasts, my hand blistering from the heat.

We look at each other, my hand trembling, and feed each other the bun.

I can't help but think how the little things are linked together.

The cheese buns, our makeshift bread, which had given me a new life so many years before. Today, Peeta and I are giving each other another reason to keep living.

The dandelion, which had given me hope. To this day, Peeta and the dandelion are connected in my heart. Anytime I am too exhausted to continue, one look at either can give me reason to keep going.

The pearl on my ring. The gift from Peeta that kept me going even in the darkest of times. The gift that means I care. The gift that promises better times.

And the one word that means no matter what, he will be there for me, he will care for me, he will love me, forever, eternally, without end: Always.

"I love you," I say.

Peeta looks pleasantly surprised. He's usually the one that says it first. "I love you, too, Katniss. I love you very much."

"Don't you ever leave," I whisper, "Stay with me."

Peeta smiles, his eyes shimmering. The fire makes his hair look ablaze. His lips leave a soft kiss on my hand. "Always."