Work Text:
Peeta lies on a blanket in soft late morning light, hands behind his head with fingers interlaced. His eyes are closed and simple notes float, dousing him. Katniss' solitary voice serenades the meadow. The barest turn of his lips appears. He is just this side of dozing when the mingling harmony of two voices joins in. The swift swell in his chest bursts out in a grin. He nearly laughs at the off set of this moment to hours ago in the dark, fingers twisting his ashy waves painfully, his rough breathing broke Katniss from sleep. It rarely happened anymore and he couldn’t remember the last time it had happened at night, so when it was over and the sun long risen, Katniss ordered him to dress comfortably and eat the light breakfast left on the table. Once he finished, Katniss pulled him out the front door, gathered Willow and Rye from Haymitch’s and led their family to the furthest end of the meadow. Over here was the perfect blend of shadow and light, for napping, for sketching, or to simply watch a beautiful day drift by. In moments such as this Peeta was certain he was still in the Capitol and that his mind had constructed an elaborate delusion to cope with the endless torment. Disbelief wasn’t a strong enough word for all he felt gazing at his wife and children. There was always something real to anchor him though. Today it was the bruising Katniss’s lips and fingers left behind in their post episode frenzy. She was like this the other two times but not so early on. Shrieks of laughter pulled his focus back to his growing family, their children danced around Katniss begging for more songs. When Katniss’ voice soared, solitary once again, he wandered over and joined in.