I asked for the fifth time today. I'm sure if I can just get her in the perfect mood, she might agree. ''Katniss, do you ever want kids?'' I say, bluntly. She glances at me and stops smiling. I walk across the room and wrap my arms around her waist. She sighs, places down the bow she was making, and leans back on me. ''I love you, Peeta, but kids…'' her voice trails off a little, ''... I couldn't be a mother! I'm so broken and just wrong for it.''
''We're both broken, but we somehow manage,'' I say softly. Katniss scoffs, ''Yeah, a real miracle.'' I release her and she walks away. I try to bring it up at dinner, but she changes the subject every time I try.
Weeks pass, and the winter thaws ever so slowly. The colour that I thought would return to her face hasn't, and she's lost weight.
The Meadow had sprouted dandelions and all manner of weeds this spring. She watches them sway in the cool breeze, and her eyes flit back and forth with them. ''If you don't want kids, it's ok, Katniss.'' But it's not, and she knows it. She's felt the same hunger as me. I can tell by her eyes - the ones that once fascinated, and continue to fascinate me – that something's missing. ''Peeta.'' She turns to me and takes each of my hands in her small, thin ones. She whispers so quietly that I almost miss it, ''I want kids.''