Darius

I know from the moment I walk into my house one evening after my hunt that something is different.

The difference appears in my mother, who approaches me with an uncharacteristic level of agency and practically throws my blue Reaping dress - the fanciest article of clothing I own - into my face. "Get changed into this. And set an extra plate at the table for dinner. We have a guest."

I frown, as I cross to the cupboard, remove the extra plate and set it amongst our meager dining set. "What's going on?"

"You have a gentleman caller," Mother replies. "A suitor."

I should refuse to put on the dress. Plus, I should demand of Mother just why she would agree to this. I begin to do the latter, but Mother merely points to my blue dress and then to the door of my room.

"Katniss, you are 18 years old. It is time for you to settle down and marry."

True, most children in District 12 get married when they come of age at 18, in celebration of surviving their last Reaping for the Hunger Games. But not me. Never me. "I hate to disappoint you, Mother," I retort firmly (even though I really don't hate disappointing her at all), "but I won't marry."

"You'll marry," she dismisses. "All girls marry."

"I'm not all girls," I snap, even as I retreat to the room I share with my sister, Primrose, and change into the blue dress.

As I do the bare minimum in primping and preening (I have never felt my face or figure were worth the effort), I seethe. Why would Mother actively seek a suitor for me? She knows my opinions on marriage, opinions that I have held since I was a young girl. Opinions formed in no small part due to the death of my father, and how this event all but destroyed my mother emotionally. Considering it was her husband whom she lost, I would think that Mother might be sympathetic to my reluctance to entrust my heart to any man.

Then again, perhaps what I want is something that Mother has never even considered, preferring instead to focus on what the family needs. And that is money. Economic security. Mother has been running a decent Healer business ever since she married Daddy, but she is not getting any younger, and her pay is at the mercy of whatever the poor people of the Seam, and the struggling middle class of District 12 in general, can afford. Primrose is only fourteen, still not safe of the Reaping, so she can't be married off. That leaves me.

I hear a knock on the front door.

"Katniss! Go and greet your guest!" Mother orders. I exit my bedroom and obey, clapping a startled hand to my mouth when I realize who has been invited to dinner.

Darius Freeman is a 20-year-old Peacekeeper in District 12, distinctive for his flaming red hair flowing down to his shoulders, and his unusually friendly demeanor. Unusual for someone of his profession, anyway. When I have traded in the Hob for the game I hunt to feed my family, he has always bartered handsomely for them... even if in between these, he has openly flirted with me, haggling for a kiss as payment. It is a trade I have always rebuffed.

"Hello, Katniss," Darius beams.

"Hello, Darius," I reply, shifting my braid back behind my shoulder nervously. "Won't you come in?"

After dinner, Mother encourages Darius and I to retreat to my room to talk. My gut roils in part-revulsion and part-terror as I close the door behind us. What does she think we're going to do in here? Display physical affection as if to test whether we are a good match?

But Darius resorts to merely talking. For someone as blunt and even coarse as me, I am grateful that he gets right to the point.

"I care for you deeply, Katniss. You are one of the most admired women in the district. As strong-willed as you a beautiful - quite the catch. Would you consider accepting my hand in marriage?" And he takes my hand with a smile.

Even as I was half-expecting it, his proposal nonetheless shocks me. I don't answer for a long time as I think it all over, weighing all the Pros and Cons in my head. Marrying a Peacekeeper, even a private like Darius, is exactly the kind of economic security that Mother is seeking for me. For a poor young Seam woman like me, there are only a few options for advancing above my station. One would have been to become a Victor of the Hunger Games (a feat that District 12 has only accomplished twice in the last 76 years, and only once by a woman). More than this, I would be the wife of a Capitol official, guaranteeing for me a level of safety that the rest of the district could only dream of. There would be no hassle in being assigned a house, as all couples must go through when getting married at the Justice Building; I would likely move into Darius's home in the Peacekeeper Barracks.

However, every Pro has a Con to go with it. Darius explained to my family and I during dinner that he is paid a "healthy stipend" as part of his commission. The only problem is, I don't know what he means by "healthy." And if what I have seen of the accommodations in the Barracks is any indication, I highly doubt that such a stipend could sustain two people, especially a husband and a wife. Besides, my trades are mostly conducted through barter; rarely am I paid coins for my kills, so I would not add to Darius's income in any meaningful way. Yes, marriage to a Peacekeeper would grant me safety, but what kind of safety is left out of my control. On the one hand, it could mean my ability to conduct my illegal hunts and trading with absolutely no fear of repercussions. On the other hand, a status as a Peacekeeper's spouse could add an extra level of scrutiny that would make such hunts all but impossible.

Then there is the issue of the Barracks. Darius may have his own house, but the Peacekeepers still practice communal living. Theirs is a militarized lifestyle with relatively few opportunities for romance or sex. Though marriage for them is not technically forbidden, it is highly discouraged by higher-ups in the ranks, so most cadets abstain from marriage in favor of illegitimate couplings that more often than not result in bastard children without fathers. To have a woman in their midst, even if I would be the wife of one of their own, would not prevent Darius's comrades from trying to have their own way with me. I may be able to one day submit to being a wife, but I would be a faithful wife. Not a trophy wife and definitely not a sex toy to be passed around or otherwise change hands. Ultimately, I would be in close quarters as a form of temptation for other men, and have little privacy outside of Darius's one abode. Perhaps not even that.

Then there are the Unknowns. Would Darius expect me to sleep with him? Surely yes; it's what spouses do. And the proposition of sex has never excited me before. Besides, sex - especially the unprotected kind - often leads to babies. Babies who grow into children who are Reaped for arenas to die. Would Darius want children? In openly marrying where there is technically no rule against it, he would be free to pursue fatherhood with me. But I have never wanted children or to become a mother, for fear of losing them to the Reaping. So that is something I will not abide. What if Darius were reassigned to another district? If I were his wife, I would be compelled to go with him to wherever a new commission might take him, thus leaving behind my homeland and my family. What other difficulties would come from marrying a foreigner? For Darius is not from District 12, and our people take great pride in marrying one of our own kind, right down to class. Even marriages just between Merchant and Seam - like my parents' - are rare and frowned upon. Would I be seen even more differently in taking a husband who hails from one of the Career districts, possibly even the Capitol itself?

One last Unknown: I have no idea whether I am sexually attracted to Darius, if there might be any potential between us. Even for someone as adverse to sex as me, I cannot deny that Darius is handsome. He must be attracted to me, flirting with me and proposing, but I can't imagine why he would be. I am mostly skin and bones, with small breasts, and none of my mother or sister's more Merchant features.

As I am thinking all this, I have been absent-mindedly running my fingers through Darius's hair, sizing him up. I gaze into his deep blue eyes. He squeezes my hand and brings me back to reality.

"Can I kiss you?"

I blink. He is the only man who has ever asked me for a kiss before. But no one has ever kissed me. I have always been cold towards the subject. However, a kiss might be the best way to determine if Darius and I have potential, if I feel anything deeper for him at all.

I raise an eyebrow. "May I kiss you?" I correct him. Then I shrug.

"All right."

Darius beams, almost as if he is pleasantly surprised. "Then, you'll allow it?"

I nod grimly. "I'll allow it."

Darius's hands encircle my waist and the back of my neck. Pulling me tight against his body, he kisses me full on the mouth.

I gasp as his lips seal over mine. I am unsure, as the sensation of kissing a man is brand new. I feel Darius's lips open up against mine and I try to match him, so that his tongue slips in between my parted lips and down my throat. I let out a choked, gargled sound at the contact. Darius is a good kisser. My skills, however, remain to be seen. I weave my fingers into Darius's hair, pull him closer and shut my eyes, doing my best to kiss him back.

As we kiss, Darius's hands grope lower, beneath my waist. I feel him touch my butt, and then boldly raise my leg to hook around his waist, so that the hem of my blue dress rides up on my thigh. I free one of my hands, seize his wrist and firmly move his hand back up.

At that moment, the door opens. I push into Darius's chest and we snap apart, our arms still around each other and with my leg still in a compromising and very sexual position. Looking over Darius's shoulders, my face and kissed lips flush in mortification as I see my sister staring at us, open-mouthed.

"Primrose," I gasp. "Go back to Mother. Not a word." She knows enough to obey. As soon as the door is closed, I squirm out of Darius's embrace.

"Nothing," I flatly deliver my verdict. "I feel nothing."

"No fireworks," Darius actually agrees. He smiles softly. "Thank you for giving me a chance." And he takes his leave.

Perhaps it is better that I felt nothing more for Darius, to say nothing of the fact that he touched my ass without permission. That killed his proposal for me. In any event, marrying Darius would have made my life far too complicated.