Katniss P.O.V
2 Months Later…
Peeta still couldn't stand to look at my scars. We were keeping watch while the other bathed and he wouldn't look at me. At first I thought maybe he didn't want me anymore, that maybe he'd lost his mind like the other tributes and would turn around and kill me at a moment's notice. I trusted him though. I never gave a second thought to killing him, like I had with the tributes. I'd only killed 2 so far in the whole game and I have to admit, it felt good to know that I had lessened mine and Peeta's chances of dying by 2 times. I had only hoped Peeta would keep his sanity. I figured with the way that he stayed by my side earlier that he'd felt like he invested too much time in me to simply kill me. We'd made so much love in the past couple of months too. So much love flowed between us, not that I was sure where it lied. Did it lie in the desperation of our life and death situation? The sheer need of trustworthy companionship during this time?
Or did it come from a deep and festering, undying love for one another? One that had been repressed and shoved down over a period of years? I hoped it was the second one. I really did love him, I always had. I'm not sure if I loved him like I love him now, but I loved him. He was sweet to me, pure. Something that nobody had ever touched before me. Like a dove, before you shoot it down out of the sky. And then it lays there, bloodied by your hands only. What a sick way to look at love. Ha, I'd been trained to think sickly lately. It was all I could do. Think of blood and death and rotting. Think of protecting Peeta. My Peeta. And our baby inside me.
Peeta P.O.V.
I couldn't look at those scars. They made me sick everytime I caught a glimpse. They ravaged her body, in angry shades of red and purple. I would run my hands over them subconsciously at night and it would anger me. They were rough and slick, like they didn't even exist on the same soft supple skin as the rest of her body. She had been hurt, and I had been the cause of the ungodly marks on her precious being. I had been paranoid over her lately, watching her every move to make sure no one was around, stalking her like a lion stalks its prey. She'd been sick lately, throwing up and what not. I was concerned. Could she be…no. I'd pulled out almost every time. We couldn't raise a baby in this mess. In this chaos. She couldn't be pregnant, there was no way I could keep her and that baby safe. That baby, like it was official. She'd need medical care and ultra sounds and things to ensure a safe delivery. Things I couldn't give her. I'd give her everything I could and try my best to take care of her but if something went wrong, I don't know if I could forgive myself.
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Like it? Reviewwwww! I know it's short but it was getting late and I had a few things I wanted to include in the story before I forgot them.
