It took the boy with the bread's return to breathe back the life into my life. Once he had I was no longer in a position to deny what I had been lying to myself about for these months. While the rest of my body had wasted away from lack of use my stomach had not shrunk, if anything it had grown. I had tried telling myself that it was the inactivity making my stomach expand, tried to convince myself that it was anything but what I feared the most. I'd never even had sex, not except for the one time, down in that bunker while bombs rained down from above. I was finally broken and so was he, we'd turned to each other for comfort. We hadn't even finished, both felt too bad for that to happen. He had broken down into tears and retreated into the land of his nightmares. I had just fled, tying and untying knots to try and forget the pain, and forget what I'd done. I couldn't be carrying Finnick Odair's baby, could I? Once wasn't enough, if we didn't finish I couldn't get pregnant right? But the fear taking flight in my chest told me differently, my body knew what my mind denied.