For years I watched him long for a child. As the district grew up around us children began to appear. It caught me off guard, initially causing a re-occurrence of nightmares of burning children and genocide, but Peeta reveled in the sight of the kids. I saw his eyes light up when he saw children playing in the meadow one day.
It was about 7 years after the war, and as he watched them run around tagging one another, he gripped my hand tightly. It was an unspoken request that I couldn't ignore.
That night as we washed the dishes from dinner and Peeta was trying to retell a funny story told to him by Thom. I burted out,
"I just can't!"
"You can't what?" He replied.
"I can't give you children, Peeta. It is too painful, too scary and I am too broken to bring a child into the world. I will never be able to give that to you. I know that you want it so badly. I can see it in your eyes. I am so sorry, and if you want to go, I won't hold it against you. You deserve all the happiness that this world can offer you and I'm not going to hold you back anymore. Go and give your love to someone who can give you the family you need, the children you deserve."
By the end of my tirade, I broke into sobs. He tried to comfort me, but I refuse to let him. I ran into our bedroom and curled up into a little ball on our bed and listened to him finish cleaning the kitchen.
He came into our bedroom a little while later and sat on the other side of the bed, not looking at me.
"I'm only going to say this once," he began.
"I would love to have a family, but I have always known that you don't want that. My love for you is not conditional. Whether or not we have children one day does not negate my love for you. You are what I want. You are what I have always wanted."
I eased up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist.
"Thank you!" I whispered. As he turned his face to mine I see the tears stream down his face.
"I'm never going to leave you….Don't tell me to again!"
Our gazes met and locked, sweeping me into the moment on a tidal wave of emotion. And then, as I felt the unrelenting urge to hold onto him to calm the whir of desire inside, he reached out and wrapped his hand around my neck, pulled me to him, and kissed me. It wasn't a gentle, tentative kiss. No, this kiss tasted of desperation, focus, and needing me, and as he pulled me tighter, I needed him right back.
His lips were sweet, a delicious memory of the cookies he'd brought home from the bakery. I let myself kiss him with everything I wanted and everything broken inside me, deepening the kiss and forgetting all that he was was willing to give up. His fingers threaded through my braid, unraveling it like he always did. His hands were hungry and they removed my clothes in a moment's time. Even after all our years together, I was amazed at how he touched me. I always seemed so new to him, like a present he was waiting to unwrap. He ran his hands over my breast, his thumb pausing over the stiff peak before he ravaged it with his mouth, over-saturating me with arousal.
With a burning glance I urged him to remove his clothing so I could feel every inch of his skin on mine, and after, I marveled at the sight of him. His chiseled chest and strong arms offering scars as evidence of our life before this place, his perfect jaw melted me and I knew that he was mine.
He moved his hands down my torso towards my center and couldn't help but groan and arch my back as I felt electricity moving from my breasts to between my legs. I moaned and writhed at the sensations that he was giving me as he began circling his fingers around and over the tiny bud at the apex of my thighs. I felt waves of pleasure as I felt myself building up to an unavoidable summit. My desire to meet my body's satisfaction was heightened, so I moved my hips to meet Peeta's fingers and to ease the almost unbearable pleasure that was building between my legs.
He knew how desperately I wanted him inside me, and he met my desire with his arousal. He sank into me, and we gasped in unison at the glorious sensation between us. He moved languidly, savoring every thrust. I could feel the heat building up rapidly, and my back arched as I begged Peeta to speed up, driving me towards the edge of insanity. As Peeta increased the tempo, his fingers moved over my warm skin, and then it was there, the heavenly release was just within reach. Peeta slammed deeper inside me, deeper than he'd ever been and I reached the point of no return. "Peeta," I cried as my body seemed to float and fall. . .only to float again. My nails dug into his arms and I whimpered for more. He happily obliged and I fell over the edge again as he reached his own climax. We come unglued together, shuddering, as the spasms rocked our bodies and ecstasy exploded from our centers.
Afterward, as he held me the way he has held me since I was a scared sixteen year old girl in a cave, I realized there was something I needed to do. Wordlessly, I got up and proceeded downstairs.
"Where are you going?" He called, but I didn't reply. I went straight to the hearth in the sitting room and begin piling logs for the fire. Peeta came downstairs as I lit the fireplace ablaze.
"What are you doing? It's July."
I gave him a sweet kiss before heading into the kitchen. I returned with two slices of day-old Rye bread and two forks. Then I placed them on the floor near the fire.
"What is going on?" He demanded.
"Will you be mine forever?" I ask, as I handed him a slice of bread on a fork.
"Always," he said, thrusting the bread into the flame.
After we eat each other's charred slices Peeta asked,
"We just got married, real or not real?"
I say, "Real."
Our lives carry on uneventfully after that. Some days are still too painful to bear, but we cope with the help of each other. Peeta tries to hide the gleam in his eyes from me when he sees a father and son come into the bakery a few years later. I pretend like I don't see it.
Through the years he never asked, and I was grateful not to have the conversation, but all of that changed when I saw her.
I'm helping Peeta in the bakery after my hunting plans had fallen through, thanks to the terrible spring storm that is still wreaking havoc outside, when the door chimes. She walks in and I am taken aback. She's maybe six years old and has beautiful blond curls surrounding her face. Her eyes are the epitome of seam gray. My heart leaps at the sight of her.
"Is this what our child would look like?" My imagination surprises me, just when the little girl interrupts my daydream.
"Is Mr. Peeta here?"
"He sure is, "I reply, still mesmerized.
Peeta, hearing the little girl's voice came around from the back and her eyes light up when she sees him, and she runs up to give him a hug.
"Can you tell me another story?" She begs.
"Okay, but just a quick one," he says as he scoops her up and sits her on the counter. He tells her a tale about a fish making friends with a turtle then hands her a beautifully frosted cookie and puts her back down on the floor.
"Can I come back tomorrow?" She asks sweetly.
"Of course, tell your mother hello for me!"
"Ok," she says as she opens her little umbrella and walks out into the rain.
"She looks like…..us," I mutter accidentally out loud.
"I guess she does," Peeta says and he doesn't try to hide his grin as he walks back into the kitchen.
Thoughts of the little blond girl occupy my thoughts over the next few days, then the next few weeks. What games does she play? What songs does she sing? I find myself thinking of the imaginary child that I was pregnant with during our second games. She would be 14 today. I think about the stories Peeta would've told her. I imagine watching them bake cookies together. I picture myself taking her into the woods for the first time. How happy would her childhood have been? I repress all these thoughts often, because this is not what I want. Not what I have ever wanted.
I convince my brain to change the subject, but my heart never does, and our imaginary child finds her way into my dreams. Not the nightmares that I'm used to, but sweet dreams that threaten my resolve. As I lay awake one night avoiding the dancing girl who infiltrates my dreams so often now, my mind wanders to a night on a beach a long time ago, When I longed for a time with no Capitol, no games, where Peeta's child could be safe.
…and just like that my crumbling wall shatters, and I am scared. Scared of the feelings I have and how those feelings affect my life, and his. There are no games, no Capitol, not even anymore hunger, really. There is peace, which is what I wanted. There are still dangers, there always will be, but we would fiercely protect our child the same way we protect each other. With this revelation I know sleep will not come tonight, so I go downstairs to prepare to head into the woods for an early morning hunt.
I pack some items, leave a note for Peeta and head into the woods. My mind is always clearest with I'm hunting and today is no exception. As I sit waiting for a rabbit or squirrel to cross my path, I ask myself what I want. The answer is simple; I want Peeta to be happy. After all that he has saved me from…death, myself, loneliness. I think that I can finally start to repay my boy with the bread.
I leave my spot in the woods determined and if I let myself admit it….even excited.
I don't tell Peeta about my decision. If for some reason I can't get pregnant, I don't want to break his heart.
It's been 3 months since I threw out my Capitol pregnancy tablets and I notice my cycle is late. I remember from my mother's healer days that I need to wait a few weeks to see our healer in District 12 to find out if I am actually pregnant.
I'm skinning a squirrel at the sink after my hunt when I feel the overwhelming wave of nausea rush over me. If I wasn't already at the sink I know I would have made a huge mess on the floor. I heave until I have nothing left then sink onto the cold tile. With my mind still reeling from the episode at the sink, I count on my fingers how long it has been since I bled, about three weeks now. I think it's time to visit the healer.
I go to see her first thing the next day, forgoing my morning in the woods. I wouldn't be focused enough to kill anything anyway, I'm far to nervous. She examines me and tells me that all her tests confirm my pregnancy, but if I want a definite answer she will need to send a sample of my blood to the Capitol. I agree, knowing I won't get the results for two weeks.
Two more weeks until I can share the news with Peeta that will change his life.
Ten days later and it's Peeta who answers the phone.
"Ms. Everdeen," he calls to me sarcastically.
"You have a very important phone call," he says in his best Capitol accent.
"Hello," I say nervously.
"Ms. Everdeen, this is Helia from the Capitol Maternity Clinic. I am just calling to tell you your test results. Let me be the first to congratulation you and Mr. Mellark on your pregnancy. I want you to know that you have my discretion. Thank you for all that you've done." She finishes.
"Uh, ok, thank you for calling." I say hanging up the receiver.
"What was that about?" He asks when I get back to the kitchen.
"I've been keeping a secret," I say. "I just needed to be sure before I said anything, but now I am."
"Are you okay?" He rushes to me.
"Yes, I am…well...we are," I say as I move his hand to rest on my lower abdomen.
"Are you serious? When? Why? How did this happen?"
"I'm serious. About 2 months ago. I needed this for you. I meant for it to happen…It was the little blond girl from the bakery." I admit, as my secrets erupt like lava from my lips.
Peeta looks at me in astonishment as his bright blue eyes fill with tears. He embraces me quickly, and with purpose, and he kisses my neck.
"You never cease to amaze me, Ms. Everdeen."
"Mellark, I whisper to him, it's Mrs. Mellark."