Hola! This on-shot was written for day 4 (Romance) of Piece in Their Game Awards on tumblr. I know that several other authors have written this subject matter, but that's the beauty of fanfic, right? We all get to give our take.

I hope you enjoy, and since this is a one-shot I would really appreciate if you left a review, since that will really be my only way to gauge interest. Thank you as always for reading! I genuinely appreciate every single person who takes the time to read my stories. :)

I do not own The Hunger Games.


A Change of Heart


I feel like my heart is literally being squeezed in a vise grip right now. Joy and fear and love and regret and excitement are all warring with each other for dominance within its fragile walls. I've spent the last year analyzing every facet of this decision- vacillating back and forth, weighing the pros and cons- and at the end it all comes down to one simple fact. Nothing in this world matters more to me than Peeta's happiness.

Watching him now, I feel certain that I have made the right decision, but if this past year has taught me anything it is that my certainty is as fickle and changing as the wind. He jogs slowly through the back yard, ensuring that the dark haired boy chasing him on his chubby toddler legs can catch up. At the first light touch of his little hands, Peeta feigns a fall, letting the little boy think he has succeeded in tackling him. The boy screeches with delight as he falls on top of Peeta only to be held up high over the man's head at arm's length and tickled under his arms. Peeta looks impossibly handsome as he lies in the grass with the baby extended above him- his gorgeous smile is at its brightest, eyes shining, hair tousled and falling across his brow. His arms are strong and his body is fit from the daily exertions of his work in the bakery. I am as attracted to him today as I was fifteen years ago when we were just too broken kids, discovering our sexuality and learning to love together.

Sometimes I am struck by the fact that even after all these years together, my love for him still burns with such intensity. When it comes to Peeta I suppose I will always be the girl on fire.

"Watch out, Brainless. If you let him see you looking so wistful he might start thinking you want one of those of your own." It's Johanna's voice that snaps me out of my revelry. I look over at her to see that she is pointing the fork she has been using to devour a piece of rhubarb pie over to where Peeta is playing with her three year old son, Hal.

I just clear my throat and return my attention to my own uneaten dessert. I haven't even brought myself to tell Peeta that I've had a change of heart yet. I'm definitely not going to say anything to Johanna about it. She stares at me pointedly as though she is trying to read my thoughts, but I am saved from answering when her husband, Lomeren, gently squeezes her knee. "It's getting kind of late. Do you think we should get Halberd into the bath and ready for bed?" he asks in his quiet voice that seems so incongruous with his huge, hulking frame.

When Johanna showed up six years ago for her annual visit to District 12 with Lomeren in tow, to say I was shocked would be a massive understatement. For ten years Peeta and I had endured the derision of our closest friend for our obvious devotion to each other. She never missed an opportunity to tell us that the slightest affection between us was making her sick, or how foolish we looked holding hands while we walked into town, or how she was going to laugh her head off when we grew tired of each other and had to finally admit that love doesn't really exist.

Peeta was much more successful at ignoring her jibes than I was. A few years before she met Lomeren I actually kicked her out of our house and forced her to leave the district three days early because she suggested that Peeta was spending his long hours at the bakery screwing his young female assistant. I refused to speak with her for four months until she finally showed up on my doorstep unannounced to apologize. She was still cynical towards our marriage after that, but she never again crossed the line by suggesting that Peeta was unfaithful. I know without doubt that he would never do that to me, but my insecurities about not deserving him sometimes manifest in unpleasant ways- primarily with rampant jealousy.

But then six years ago she showed up for her usual visit and introduced us to her new husband. They had apparently been married three months prior in a small private ceremony with just the two of them and the ritual officiate present. I can understand that- mine and Peeta's wedding consisted of just the two of us, my mother, and Haymitch. The exploitation we endured at the hands of the Capital has given us all an aversion to ceremony and public displays.

I was ecstatic for Johanna when I met Lomeren for the first time. Not only because now I could repay her for the years of ribbing she dished out to us, but also because his kind, gentle and patient manner make him her perfect counterpart. For two years I was blissful at her good fortune, secure in the knowledge that my friend would no longer have to face her pain alone.

My reaction when she called four years ago to tell me she was pregnant was not quite so idyllic, however. On one level I was truly, genuinely happy for Johanna. I heard something in her voice that I had never heard before: tenderness. She tried to be nonchalant about it, but I could tell that she was pleased to become a mother. She was pleased to be giving Lomeren children.

I responded with all the right words. Told her how pleased I was for her, asked her when she was due and made her promise to call us if she needed anything. I passed the phone to Peeta and watched as he gave her the exuberant congratulations I knew I should have felt. But as I watched Peeta's happy reaction to Johanna's news, I felt myself slipping into one of my episodes, and I knew it was going to be a bad one.

I don't have too many occasions anymore where my self-loathing encroaches upon me to a crippling extent- just a few times a year, perhaps, and usually very short lived. But the night after Johanna's news I went to bed and didn't get out again for nearly two weeks.

Peeta was there for me as he always is. Coaxing me to eat a few times each day, carrying me to the bathtub and bathing me while I lay there listlessly, holding me as I wept for hours on end. All of this only served to reinforce what I had known for years- what Johanna's phone call forced me to face. I didn't deserve Peeta. I was a selfish woman for keeping him when I knew, with every fiber of my being, that I couldn't make him happy.

Peeta wanted children and he had never made any secret of the fact. On the few occasions that he actually brought it up to me over the years, it always resulted in an explosive fight. He eventually stopped bringing it up at all. But I never forgot. Not a single day went by that I didn't recall how he gave me everything I needed- that he fulfilled me in every way even though I did nothing to earn it- and I could not give him the one and only thing he had ever actually asked of me.

As I lay in that bed for eleven straight days, too absorbed in my own misery to face my life, I couldn't stop from wondering how Johanna could succeed where I had failed so utterly. She was at least as broken as I was, right? How could she face the prospect of bringing a child into the world that had been so cruel to us? How could she bring a child into the world knowing that we could do nothing but fail it- could do nothing to keep it safe?

Eventually, my guilt over the distress I was causing Peeta overcame the depression that had consumed me and I dragged myself out of bed. I went through the motions and learned to live again just as I had so many times in the past. After a few weeks, things between Peeta and I had returned to normal, I could laugh at his jokes again, my desire for him returned in full force and we began making love again as frequently as we always had. But now, each time in the back of my mind I was conscious of the baby that could have been growing within me if my prevention treatment hadn't been there to stop it.

Johanna didn't visit for the first few years after Hal was born. Last year was the first time we had ever met Halberd. I was astonished by the change motherhood had wrought in our old friend. She was still blunt and abrasive, but different somehow- her rough edges a little softened, perhaps.

But Johanna's transformation was nothing compared to that which her visit initiated within me. Seeing Peeta interact with Halberd was a revelation. It caused feelings to stir within me that I never imagined I would experience. It made me want things I had no notion I even knew existed. In the weeks following Johanna's visit with Hal, I found myself fantasizing about how Peeta would react if I told him I was pregnant. I tried to imagine myself large with child and even stood a few times in front of the mirror in our bedroom with a pillow shoved under my shirt, just to see how it would look. I became fascinated with picturing Peeta reveling in my pregnancy by talking to the baby through my belly, or clearing out a guest room and painting a mural on the wall for the nursery.

I wasn't always blissfully occupied, however. I was so full of fear and doubt that there were times when I actually contemplated telling Peeta that he should just leave me, that he should find someone to give him what he needs because I never would. Of course, I never acted on that particular impulse because the thought of another woman carrying Peeta's child caused something bleak and ugly to rise up inside me. I was far too selfish to ever actually let him go. I eventually accepted that, deep down, I knew if Peeta ever had children they should be mine. I couldn't bear for it to be any other way.

A few weeks ago, as Johanna's yearly visit drew nearer, I couldn't shake the feeling that seeing Peeta interact with Hal again would be the straw that finally tipped the scale. The day arrived when I was supposed to go to the health center to renew my prevention treatment, and I just let it slip by, as though it was not even a conscious choice.

Now, here I am, watching my beautiful husband with Johanna's precious son, and all I can think of is that it should be our child. Peeta should get to experience this joy every single day. And I should be selfless enough to give it to him.


It is about an hour later when we finally bid Johanna, Lomeren and Hal goodbye for the night. They are staying at the house that used to be Peeta's many years ago before he moved in here with me. We keep that house for times like this when we have visitors. We are intensely private people.

Peeta turns to me as he closes the front door behind him. "Whew. Hal's a little handful isn't he?" he exclaims, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks so sexy right now with his hair mussed up and his cheeks and nose slightly sunburnt from our evening outside.

"You didn't seem to mind," I say approaching him, wrapping my arms around his lean waist and turning my face up for a kiss.

He pecks me on the nose briefly before pressing a lingering kiss on my lips. "No, I didn't mind," he says against my lips after breaking the kiss. He hugs me tight around my shoulders so that my body is pressed along his.

I pull back just enough so that I can crane my neck to look him in the face. I make sure his blue eyes are locked solidly on mine before I speak. "Well, if you don't mind, then maybe we should have one of our own?"

He stares at me for so long without any kind of response that I start to get really worried. When he finally answers his voice is so low I almost don't hear it. "That's not funny, Katniss."

"It's not a joke, Peeta," I respond immediately.

"I don't understand…" he trails off, looking and sounding totally bewildered.

I lean up so that I can whisper into his ear. "I didn't renew my treatment last week. I want you to take me upstairs and give me a baby."

"How… when… did this happen?" His eyes are searching my face frantically as though he is looking for some sign that I am playing a trick on him.

"I've felt this way for a while now. I was just too scared to say anything. I wanted to make sure I was 100% positive this is what I wanted before I told you how I feel."

"What changed your mind?" His voice is shaking with emotion now.

"It started changing the first time I saw you with Hal. I saw you with him and wanted it to be my baby that was bringing you so much happiness... our baby…"

He doesn't say another word after that, but just stares at me for a few more moments before he crouches slightly so that he can grab me behind my waist and knees to pick me up. "Peeta!" I yell as he begins carrying me up the stairs. "I can walk, you know?" I am laughing now.

"Nope, you're going to need all your strength," he says. "You want me to give you a baby tonight, I'm gonna give you a baby tonight. The way I'm feeling right now, we are going to go all night just to make sure."

His words cause a surge of moisture between my legs and I lean in to his neck and being kissing, sucking and biting every inch of skin I can reach. I know how much it turns him on when I whisper in his ear, so let my lips rest on his lobe and let my breath skate across the sensitive skin there as I say, "I want to feel you come inside me tonight, and know that part of you is there to stay."

He groans loudly and drops me onto our bed unceremoniously. I bounce a couple of times, laughing giddily because he is frantically removing his clothing. When I begin to remove my own clothing he reaches out to stop me. "No," he says, "I want to do that. I want to do everything for you tonight."

I secretly love the way he dictates things in the bedroom. It makes me feel safe and protected, like he will always take care of everything. Considering the experiences in my life, this particular predilection comes as no surprise to either of us.

Once he is totally undressed he stands at the end of the bed and lets me just look at him for a moment. After fifteen years together he knows exactly what it takes to get me going- he knows that looking at his leanly muscled body when it is just out of my reach makes me desperate for him.

It only takes a moment before I am panting and my legs fall open completely of their own accord. I place my hand over my center and begin to rub myself through my pants gently. Peeta allows this for a few moments- he loves to watch me touch myself- before he pulls my hand away, and grabbing the other pins both above my head as he crawls on the bed and kneels over me. There is something so erotic about him kneeling over me completely naked, his erection arrogantly on display, while I am totally clothed. It makes me feel so constrained by my clothes, because I just want to feel his skin against mine so badly. To add insult to injury, he shifts his hands so that both of my wrists are held firmly by his left hand as he moves his right hand down to stroke himself.

"Peeta…" I moan desperately, bucking my hips up, attempting to make contact with him where his legs are straddling mine.

He must decide to take pity on me because he releases both my hands and himself and makes quick work of my shirt and bra. As he begins to knead my breasts with his strong but gentle hands I am overcome with emotion and impatience all at once. "Peeta, please. I want you so much. I don't need anything else right now… ungh, I'm already so wet…" I can't continue as a low moan takes over.

As strong and in control as he wants to be I can see that my words put him over the edge of his endurance. His eyes are so dark with lust and heat right now- when we are together like this is the only time they ever get this dark. I love knowing that I am the only woman to ever see this side of him.

He crawls off of me long enough to quickly pull off my pants and underwear, but pauses on his way back up. He stops right as his face is hovering over my bellybutton and darts his tongue out in a delicate lick before placing a soft kiss just beneath it. He looks up at me and waits until my eyes are on his. I reach my hands down and sift them gently through his soft blond curls. I know that he loves when I do this. He told me in a moment of extreme vulnerability several years ago that it makes him feel cherished.

He kisses my abdomen softly again before he speaks quietly, "Are you sure about this, Katniss?" He spreads his hand out on my belly and continues, "Because after tonight, our baby might be growing right here."

I have been through so much with this amazing man. I have loved him in so many ways and for so long. I have admired his strength, his talent, his kindness and his devotion. But I have never loved him more than I do right now. "Yes, I'm sure," I tell him softly, "and I hope we do make a baby tonight, Peeta. Because I have never loved you more than I do in this moment… and I can think of no better possible way to bring a life into this world."

His eyes reflect the emotion that I feel as he continues up my body and initiates a soft kiss to my lips as he gently spreads my legs and settles between them. He places his hand between us and I reach down to hold him as well, so that when he enters me it is with both of our hands guiding the way.

It doesn't last very long, and it doesn't have to. I am so close by the time he is fully seated inside me that I come within his first few thrusts, my entire body seizing in pleasure as he whispers in my ear how much he wants me… how much he needs me. He begins moving again after I come down and I wrap my legs securely around his lower back to show him that, in no way do I want him to be anywhere but inside of me when he comes. It only takes a couple more thrusts and he is groaning loudly, a sound that I know well after all these years. I relish the feeling of him spilling inside me in a way I never have before.

Afterward he pulls out and lies down next to me drawing me securely into his arms and kissing my hair. We are quiet for a long time just listening to each other's breathing slow. I am just beginning to doze off when Peeta finally breaks the silence. "Sooo… do you feel pregnant?" he asks.

I laugh and open my eyes to look into his smugly smiling face. "No. How am I supposed to feel anything after only a few minutes?"

"Hmm… You don't feel anything?" he asks adorably. I am laughing even harder as I shake my head in the negative. "Well, then," he says, leaning up on his elbows and maneuvering over me once again, "I guess we better just keep trying then…"

I nod solemnly in mock seriousness as I open my arms to him. I'm not about to argue…