five years after the rebellion didn’t fully separate peeta from the memories. he still woke up with nightmares in the middle of what would could have been a good night.

usually, he’d crawl out of bed if he hadn’t woke up and sit on the patio or busy himself with checking on your garden. now, he’d stayed in bed with you, sharing whispered words with the growing baby in your stomach.

mostly whatever was on his mind would do with the exception of what he’d just dreamed of. sometimes, he felt particularly excited and tell your baby all the things they didn’t know about you.

how stubborn you could be, but also how strong, even a euphemised version of how you met him. imagine his surprise when you opened your eyes, revealing you were listening in on this dad-baby convo. “you caught me.”