I jump slightly when a doorbell rings through the house. I place my book on the coffee table and walk through the living room/dining room to the door. No one is at the door though when I open it, only the wind harshly blowing snow around the porch. I stand there for a minute just to see if anyone comes back. Just as I am about to close the door, something catches the light at the bottom of the door. Sitting on the porch outside the door is a small silver box wrapped in a red bow.

Nervously I pick it up and close the door as quickly as I can. Is someone out there watching me to see if I get it?

"Peeta," I yell up the stairs while passing the box between my hands to feel its weight.

"Yes Katniss."

"Can you come down here?"

"Sure, just give me a minute to finish up this paint."

I walk back over to the couch and stare at the small box, examining every inch of it to guess what might be inside. Finally I can't take it anymore and I slowly slide the bow off. The box has a lid that I carefully lift off to reveal purple wrapping that seems to be covering something. My whole body is trembling as I lift the wrapping to see what's underneath. I almost drop the whole box when I see it. Here it is in front of me, that one thing that possibly saved my life in the 75th hunger games. Underneath it sits a small card that makes all muscles in my body give way by the words written on it.

"Katniss, where are you?" I hear Peeta's footsteps on the stairs before his voice, but I don't have the courage to answer.

"Katniss? Are you alright?" His voice is full of concern, but he still has not seen the box.

Finally I stand up to face him as he enters the living room area.

"Are you alright," he asks referring to the dead look in my eyes. All I can do is raise my hand to show him. He squints for a minute at it as if trying to remember.

"What is it?"

I take a depth breath and almost sink to the ground, but Peeta's arms wrap around me holding me still. He guides me over to the couch and positions us so that I am on his lap with my face in his neck.

"Shhhh, Katniss what is it, what's wrong," Peeta asks while smoothing down my hair.

I find courage deep inside to finally answer, "Do you remember during the Victory Tour when we were at president snows mansion," I pause for a breath, "and Plutarch wanted to dance with me?"

"Vaguely," he answers.

"Well he had a pocket watch with the mockingjay on it, it was a hint to what the arena was going to be like in the Quarter Quell."

"And that is the pocket watch isn't it," he asked looking down at my iron grip on the small chain with the clock.

Slowly I nod and continue explaining, "I found this inside a box on the porch and inside the box was a note." I pause to take a breath. "Cinna designed it; he created the pocket watch as a hint to me and talked Plutarch into showing it to me."

My body shakes as I remember Cinna being dragged out of that room, bloody and near death.

"Can I see this note," Peeta asks still stroking me hair.

I unclench me first and hold up a crumbled piece of paper with black ink handwriting:

Dear Katniss,

I am so sorry for everything you have been through. I had created this pocket watch for you as a hint, I couldn't let you die, not like that anyway, but you did it Girl on Fire! You beat the odds. Remember I am always betting on you.

Forever yours,

Cinna

Peeta hugs me tighter as I start to sob. He doesn't bother saying its ok, because he knows I am not that stupid. It will never be ok. We have lost everyone and only have each other now.

I feel warmth on my neck and realize Peeta is kissing my neck, his way of telling me that I will survive. How could I not survive, I am after all the Mockingjay.

"Peeta," I whimper. He moves his head so he looking at me right in the eye.

"Can you make some hot chocolate?"

I wear it every day now around my neck. It has become my last piece of him. Every meal I sit and pray for everyone I have lost, starting with my sister, than Cinna, than Rue and so on. Peeta glued Cinna's note into our memory book. Now it sits in our attic gathering dust, both of us to afraid to open it, because that means open up all those feels that we have been hiding down for years.