(Katniss' POV.)

Tick tock. My tired eyes wander over to the ticking clock above my head, a smile twitching at the corner of my mouth.

The blazing orange flames of the fireplace continue to warm my skin, the light smoke it's giving off making my nose crinkle in delight.

My bony fingers continue to trace the photograph resting in my lap, the smiling faces bringing back bittersweet memories.

Finnius, his once blond hair now a dirty mix of brown, stands proudly next to his beautiful wife, his two year old daughter sitting happily on his shoulders, a wide smile painted across her chubby face.

Next to them stands Rose, only inches shorter, her curly blond hair tucked back in a messy bun as she latches onto her five year old son's hand. Her husband stands to her left, his arm wrapped lovingly around her waist.

A single tear rolls down my cheek, splashing down onto the face of Finnius. I wipe it away instantly, pressing my lips onto the picture gently, taking in the memory all over again.

A sudden hand on my shoulder relieves me, his lips easily finding mine. A buzzing sensation fills me up, and takes away all the pain. Peeta, clutching onto his wooden cane, makes his way over to the rocking chair propped directly next to mine.

His hand slides into mine, our fingers locking.

The smell of cheese buns overwhelms my senses, a light laugh escaping my lips.

"I see the baker's still got it, huh?" I ask teasingly, laughing harder.

Peeta turns to me, brushing a strand of gray hair out of his eyes, his mouth curving into a smile.

"I've always got it, sweetheart." He replies with a snort, his grip on my hand tightening.

I can't help but study him, an amazing feeling washing over me. We did the impossible together, and defied the ones nobody thought could be defied. Our children only know half the story, a new tale told to them each year.

Now both adults, they've heard plenty of stories about the Games. It took living in the moment to truly understand the horror of it all. My children will never truly know what it was like.

We've played the game of life for many years now, and nothing gets easier. Peeta Mellark is the reason I've made it as far as I have.

The sound of his voice suddenly breaks my train of thought, his hand signaling me to look out the window.

The frost covered pane reveals the black night now splattered in beautiful stars. Peeta pulls me closer, his lips pressing gently on my temple.

"The star-crossed lovers of District Twelve live." He whispers soothingly, pointing to the stars up ahead.

Tears begin to well up in my eyes, my head nodding in agreement. I notice the blazing fireplace once again, and am hit with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

No matter what games we play, Peeta and I have a relationship that can't be broken. We are the flame that never dies.

I apologize for leaving for so long. I grew extremely busy, and completely abandoned something I started, which was wrong of me. I'd like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for reading this. The reviews always make me smile, and I can't thank you enough. I hope you enjoyed!