p class="MsoNormal"I sit on the floor of the bathroom, too scared to leave as I stare at the ground beneath me. One word to change the rest of my life. For good. Pregnant./p
p class="MsoNormal"It had been months since I had thought of the utter fakeness of my relationship with Peeta when we went into the Quarter Quell. We weren't married. We hadn't done the toasting ceremony as he had said. And I wasn't pregnant. At the time, I hadn't thought much about how I felt about all of it. Marriage. Relationships. Babies. My only focus had been on trying to survive, no matter the personal cost./p
p class="MsoNormal"It took months after the war before I found myself able to do much more than get out of bed in the morning- and sometimes not even that. I heavily relied on those around me to help me keep going- a sensation that was both new and frightening to me. According to Dr Aurelius it's a good thing and that depending on people like this is a good sign./p
p class="MsoNormal"Greasy Sae would come into the house and practically feed me the food she made, like a mother would to her toddler. Hazelle helped keep the house clean as she had done for Haymitch. Haymitch would come and be a drinking buddy some nights when he needed company. Peeta helped me look after the garden and brought me bread so often it's like he lived here, despite his own house being 25 yards away from me. And with his closeness, it was hard to not grow closer to him./p
p class="MsoNormal"I had been stupid to think that we were just friends after the Victory Tour. The more I talked about it with Dr Aurelius over the phone, the more it became obvious to me exactly what my feelings were. If I were indifferent to Peeta, or loved him any less than I did, I wouldn't have tried so hard to bring him home each time and often to my own expense. Almost getting killed by Clove trying to get him medicine. Wrapping his leg in a tourniquet. Playing along with the star-crossed-lovers act so that we could leave the games alive. Fighting with Gale incessantly about my feelings. Sharing a bed with Peeta to selfishly stop my own nightmares. Even sleeping next to Prim didn't help me. But Peeta brought me such a sense of calm that no medicine could ever replicate./p
p class="MsoNormal"And now, here we are, years later. Peeta reopened the bakery and bakes bread for everyone. We're being paid reparations for our time as a tribute- something that neither of us will be able to get over. Not completely anyways. I still go out hunting and gathering food for the few people who chose to come back. Life is being breathed back into 12. Without the fear of the Capitol, we can now openly trade in the square. While things look different, we now all have a sense of normalcy brought back./p
p class="MsoNormal"I remind myself how far we have come as I stare at the floor in front of me, struggling with myself to not panic./p
p class="MsoNormal"I had a feeling what it was, and it wasn't until I called Annie and asked her about how she had felt. She laughed and told me to go and see someone. It was strange not having my mother around to ask, and things were still odd around Hazelle, though I was grateful for everything she did for me, she was still Gale's mother. So this morning I headed to the newly set up doctors office- a perk of the dictatorial regime being overtaken by something softer. I took a roundabout route, plagued with fear that Peeta would see me through the bakery windows and want to know what's wrong. If he can help me./p
p class="MsoNormal""Katniss?" I hear Peeta coming up the steps. "Where are you? I have something for you."/p
p class="MsoNormal"I struggle to find my words. "Uh, I'll be there in a second." My voice rasps as I use it./p
p class="MsoNormal"Okay. You just need to keep your head straight for a moment, Katniss. I chastise myself./p
p class="MsoNormal"I move off the floor of the bathroom and come around into his view./p
p class="MsoNormal"He still had his perfect golden curls on top of his head, though I thought he needed a haircut. His face broke out into a smile as he saw me, and it was hard for me to stop my own from showing. span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p
p class="MsoNormal""Okay, I'm going to need you to close your eyes." I raise an eyebrow at the request but do it anyways. Standing so close to him, I can feel his breath moving my hair. "Hold out your hands." And I do./p
p class="MsoNormal"He places something warm on them, and I open my eyes. A cheese loaf./p
p class="MsoNormal""Thank you," I lean up to kiss his cheek, and in doing so I smell the loaf. And my stomach twists. And I am reminded of just moments earlier where I was sitting in the bathroom and my whole body feels like it's going to explode with fear and anxiety./p
p class="MsoNormal"Peeta can feel the rigidity in my body as he grips my biceps. "What's wrong?"/p
p class="MsoNormal""Nothing," I turn away from him and head down the stairs, forcing myself to swallow the vomit that wants to crawl its way up. I look back up at him once I reach the bottom and find him staring at me with his deep blue eyes./p
p class="MsoNormal""Katniss, I've said it before. You're a terrible liar." His leg still gives him some pains as he comes down the stairs. I can see it in the way that he's moving. He's had the prosthetic on too long and been on his feet too much today around the bakery./p
p class="MsoNormal""You should sit down and get that prosthetic off," I tell him knowingly. "I can see it's starting to hurt. Make yourself comfortable and I'll get us some tea." emAnd hopefully, pull myself together a bit better. /em/p
p class="MsoNormal"He does as I say- though at this point he knows me well enough to know when to listen./p
p class="MsoNormal"My hands shake as I fill the kettle with water. I can feel his eyes on me. They feel like needles digging into my skin, driving fear into me./p
p class="MsoNormal"What if I'm no good at this? What if we lose it? What if he thinks its too early? A mistake?/p
p class="MsoNormal"I want to be able to step up to the task of solo-parenting but something in me screams that I would be no good. Will my baby even like me? Will emhe /emeven like me after I tell him?/p
p class="MsoNormal"I set up the kettle and let it simmer over the stove./p
p class="MsoNormal"Peeta pats the spot next to him on the armchair, urging me to go and sit with him./p
p class="MsoNormal""Come, you can tell me about your day today."/p
p class="MsoNormal"I can't resist the urge to sit next to him, so I sit and curl my feet up beneath his leg, my toes cold from not wearing socks. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, holding me to him, while his other hand rests on my hip. This armchair really isn't made for two people, but the closeness calms me down./p
p class="MsoNormal""I didn't get up to much. I saw Haymitch." emLie "/em -And he says he's doing fine. Eating. Moving."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Peeta gives me a look, he knows. He knows. He knows I'm lying. And he can tell that I know as my face falls when he doesn't buy it./p
p class="MsoNormal""Haymitch came into the bakery today, hung around a while. So you weren't with him. And I would guess you were in bed today, except someone said they saw you going into the clinic."/p
p class="MsoNormal""Well, if you knew where I was today why did you bother asking me?" I snap defensively, right as the kettle begins to whistle./p
p class="MsoNormal"I get up from where we're sat on the armchair to pour the tea. Except my hands are shaking so badly that I spill most of the water and don't notice Peeta come up behind me and steady my hand./p
p class="MsoNormal""I can pour a cup of tea, Peeta!" He takes a step back as I lean against the counter, facing him, calming my breaths. emOkay, Katniss. It's just like Dr Aurelius said. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. In. Out. /emspan style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p
p class="MsoNormal""I'm just trying to help." His tone tells me he wants to leave. And I want him to leave. "I can tell whatever it is, it's important. Because if it weren't you wouldn't lie to me about it. You can come and find me when you're ready to share."/p
p class="MsoNormal"And as if I hadn't dug the knife into myself hard enough today, right as he reaches the door he turns around. I want him to come back and hug me and tell me that it's okay. But he doesn't./p
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p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; padding: 0cm; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;""I thought we were past this."/p
/div
p class="MsoNormal"My nightmares that night aren't about Prim. Or the games. This one centres around a child./p
p class="MsoNormal"The child in front of me has curly, golden hair, but has my grey eyes and complexion. There is no doubt in my mind who this is. I'm holding her, and she's wailing and wailing and wailing./p
p class="MsoNormal"emWhat's wrong? /emI wrack my brain for anything my mother might have mentioned about calming children, but I only ever saw her with them in the medical capacity when they had the measles or the flu. Never like this. Not since Prim./p
p class="MsoNormal"I hold the child close to me and try and sing it to sleep. And it feels like hours pass and she's still not calming down. A bottle appears. I try to feed her. Screaming. Maybe she needs to be changed. More screaming. And eventually, I'm crying in frustration and anger. Not at the child. Never at her. Despite the crying, she has a sweet face. Like her father./p
div style="mso-element: para-border-div; border: none; border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;"
p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; padding: 0cm; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;"emYou're a horrible mother. You couldn't help Prim and now you can't even help your own baby. What kind of a mother are you?/em/p
/div
p class="MsoNormal"I wake up in a cold sweat, crying hysterically, fear gripping my chest like a vice. I sit up, curling up into a ball. I know there is only one person who can help me keep my calm. And at the thought, I bold upright and out of the bed, foregoing putting on shoes or a jacket that's needed in the torrential rain that's set upon us overnight./p
p class="MsoNormal"And before I feel like I've blinked, I'm on his front porch knocking on his door, still feeling the tears as they drip down my face. And when he doesn't come to the door like I hoped he would, I resort to yelling. "Peeta! Peeta!"/p
p class="MsoNormal"Maybe he's not going to answer the door because you're horrible and don't deserve him. I feel like a vulnerable little lamb out here in the rain. /p
p class="MsoNormal""emYou could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve that boy." /emThe comment rings through my head, driving my hysterics./p
p class="MsoNormal"I feel like I'm yelling and knocking and knocking and yelling for years before he answers the door, and by that time Haymitch has poked his head out of his own house and told me to shut up before slamming the door closed again./p
p class="MsoNormal"At the sight of me in hysterics, barefoot, in my clothes from when he last saw me and not my pyjamas, absolutely soaking wet, he steps aside so I can come in very quickly./p
p class="MsoNormal""Sorry I didn't hear you- it's raining pretty hard and I was in the shower." I can see the back of his shirt is wet and his hair is dripping over his eyes./p
p class="MsoNormal"I know I'm dragging water in with me, but the relief of him opening the door for me overtakes any feeling of dread./p
p class="MsoNormal""Are you-" He begins to ask, at the same time that I blurt out-/p
p class="MsoNormal""I'm pregnant."/p
p class="MsoNormal"I wait a few seconds as it registers on his face. His face morphs from confusion, to fear, to understanding. And when he doesn't say anything, and the panic creeps back in, I take a step away from him back towards the door./p
p class="MsoNormal""I just came to say that to you. I, uh, just thought you deserve to know."/p
p class="MsoNormal"emHe also deserves to have a kid with someone who's not fundamentally broken, and look where you are. /em/p
p class="MsoNormal"He doesn't want me here. He hasn't said anything. He's just standing there. My hands are sore and shaking from the cold as I open his front door again, fully intending to go back home when one warm hand wraps itself around my wrist and another reaches over my head to close the door./p
p class="MsoNormal"I rest my head against the closed door. I don't want to face him. I don't want to see the look on his face. The fear of rejection runs through me so so consistently I can hardly feel my feet. Maybe it was the standing in the rain. I can feel him standing behind me, so close I can feel his warmth through my shirt./p
p class="MsoNormal""Stay." His hands move and wrap around me. "Please." I tense in surprise as he leans his head on my shoulder. And I hardly interpret my own shaking from crying until he turns me around and I bury my face in his shirt. His hands rub my back soothingly. It's like some sort of witchcraft, the way that I feel about him. The way I feel around him./p
p class="MsoNormal"His hands slide down to my legs and he effortlessly picks me up. After all these years, his strength still catches me by surprise. I don't register where we're going- just that he's here. He's letting me be here./p
p class="MsoNormal""You're so cold. Why did you leave the house without a jacket?" He doesn't say it angrily- he's concerned. He sits me on the bathroom counter and I let out an embarrassing whimper when he lets me go to turn the bath on./p
p class="MsoNormal"I look at him as he rummages around to get a flannel and the soap. He's so caring. He would be the perfect father./p
p class="MsoNormal"Once he feels that everything is in place, he comes to stand in front of me, and lets my hands latch onto his shirt./p
p class="MsoNormal""I'm so scared." I choke out as his hands move to take off the offending, cold pieces of clothing./p
p class="MsoNormal"The shirt I had been wearing lands on the floor with a dull emthud./em/p
p class="MsoNormal"Warm hands encase my face as he brings it up to look him in the eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? We're okay."/p
p class="MsoNormal"He looks away as he finishes removing my clothing and settles me in the tub. It's so hot it almost hurts as I get in. He's so kind to me, even when I don't deserve it./p
p class="MsoNormal"He doesn't leave me like I anticipate him to. He sits by the edge of the bath, giving me my privacy, while also caressing my shoulder. He makes sure to keep a hand on me as I warm up, reinforcing the idea that I am not alone. And he is here now./p
p class="MsoNormal""Turn around and tilt your head back," He tells me. I do as he asks and feel warm water travelling down the back of my head before he massages my scalp with soap./p
p class="MsoNormal"I don't remember the last time anyone looked after me like this. The times we were getting ready for interviews and the chariots before we went into the arena were different. The prep team would wash my hair, but never like this. There was something different- emloving-/em in the way that Peeta was washing my hair right now. I supposed the last time this happened, I must have been sick as a child, and my father was helping me warm up in the bitter cold./p
p class="MsoNormal"Once he's done rinsing the soap out, one of his hands comes around to hold my chin. He turns my face around to look at him and tilts my head to kiss me square on the lips./p
p class="MsoNormal""Thank you." Is all he says to me, as I turn around to face him fully. He must see the confusion on my face before he continues. "For telling me. For letting me be here with you and not fighting me."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Part of me is also surprised by my own calm actions./p
p class="MsoNormal"His blue eyes feel like they're piercing through me as he says "You're going to be a great Mum."/p
p class="MsoNormal"It's like he can read my thoughts and knows exactly where my head is, or was. Because the second those words leave his mouth, I find myself beginning to believe them. Maybe I won't be as hopeless as I feel./p
p class="MsoNormal"After he's helped me dress, he sits me on the side of the bed and comes to settle by my feet. He grabs a pair of socks and slides them over my still cold feet. Instead of getting up and joining me, however, he stays sat by my feet and instead glides his hands up my legs to rest on my stomach./p
p class="MsoNormal"A small smile comes to rest on his lips, and the look he gives me makes me want to do this all over again, just for the chance that he might look at me again like this./p
p class="MsoNormal""You have no idea how happy you've just made me." He presses a light kiss to the fabric covering my stomach, before standing and sliding back the covers for us to get into them./p
p class="MsoNormal"I come to rest, head on his chest, one of his arms around my shoulders and the other reaching across and resting over my waist. I could sleep and dream endlessly here, at this moment with him./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"It had been months since I had thought of the utter fakeness of my relationship with Peeta when we went into the Quarter Quell. We weren't married. We hadn't done the toasting ceremony as he had said. And I wasn't pregnant. At the time, I hadn't thought much about how I felt about all of it. Marriage. Relationships. Babies. My only focus had been on trying to survive, no matter the personal cost./p
p class="MsoNormal"It took months after the war before I found myself able to do much more than get out of bed in the morning- and sometimes not even that. I heavily relied on those around me to help me keep going- a sensation that was both new and frightening to me. According to Dr Aurelius it's a good thing and that depending on people like this is a good sign./p
p class="MsoNormal"Greasy Sae would come into the house and practically feed me the food she made, like a mother would to her toddler. Hazelle helped keep the house clean as she had done for Haymitch. Haymitch would come and be a drinking buddy some nights when he needed company. Peeta helped me look after the garden and brought me bread so often it's like he lived here, despite his own house being 25 yards away from me. And with his closeness, it was hard to not grow closer to him./p
p class="MsoNormal"I had been stupid to think that we were just friends after the Victory Tour. The more I talked about it with Dr Aurelius over the phone, the more it became obvious to me exactly what my feelings were. If I were indifferent to Peeta, or loved him any less than I did, I wouldn't have tried so hard to bring him home each time and often to my own expense. Almost getting killed by Clove trying to get him medicine. Wrapping his leg in a tourniquet. Playing along with the star-crossed-lovers act so that we could leave the games alive. Fighting with Gale incessantly about my feelings. Sharing a bed with Peeta to selfishly stop my own nightmares. Even sleeping next to Prim didn't help me. But Peeta brought me such a sense of calm that no medicine could ever replicate./p
p class="MsoNormal"And now, here we are, years later. Peeta reopened the bakery and bakes bread for everyone. We're being paid reparations for our time as a tribute- something that neither of us will be able to get over. Not completely anyways. I still go out hunting and gathering food for the few people who chose to come back. Life is being breathed back into 12. Without the fear of the Capitol, we can now openly trade in the square. While things look different, we now all have a sense of normalcy brought back./p
p class="MsoNormal"I remind myself how far we have come as I stare at the floor in front of me, struggling with myself to not panic./p
p class="MsoNormal"I had a feeling what it was, and it wasn't until I called Annie and asked her about how she had felt. She laughed and told me to go and see someone. It was strange not having my mother around to ask, and things were still odd around Hazelle, though I was grateful for everything she did for me, she was still Gale's mother. So this morning I headed to the newly set up doctors office- a perk of the dictatorial regime being overtaken by something softer. I took a roundabout route, plagued with fear that Peeta would see me through the bakery windows and want to know what's wrong. If he can help me./p
p class="MsoNormal""Katniss?" I hear Peeta coming up the steps. "Where are you? I have something for you."/p
p class="MsoNormal"I struggle to find my words. "Uh, I'll be there in a second." My voice rasps as I use it./p
p class="MsoNormal"Okay. You just need to keep your head straight for a moment, Katniss. I chastise myself./p
p class="MsoNormal"I move off the floor of the bathroom and come around into his view./p
p class="MsoNormal"He still had his perfect golden curls on top of his head, though I thought he needed a haircut. His face broke out into a smile as he saw me, and it was hard for me to stop my own from showing. span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p
p class="MsoNormal""Okay, I'm going to need you to close your eyes." I raise an eyebrow at the request but do it anyways. Standing so close to him, I can feel his breath moving my hair. "Hold out your hands." And I do./p
p class="MsoNormal"He places something warm on them, and I open my eyes. A cheese loaf./p
p class="MsoNormal""Thank you," I lean up to kiss his cheek, and in doing so I smell the loaf. And my stomach twists. And I am reminded of just moments earlier where I was sitting in the bathroom and my whole body feels like it's going to explode with fear and anxiety./p
p class="MsoNormal"Peeta can feel the rigidity in my body as he grips my biceps. "What's wrong?"/p
p class="MsoNormal""Nothing," I turn away from him and head down the stairs, forcing myself to swallow the vomit that wants to crawl its way up. I look back up at him once I reach the bottom and find him staring at me with his deep blue eyes./p
p class="MsoNormal""Katniss, I've said it before. You're a terrible liar." His leg still gives him some pains as he comes down the stairs. I can see it in the way that he's moving. He's had the prosthetic on too long and been on his feet too much today around the bakery./p
p class="MsoNormal""You should sit down and get that prosthetic off," I tell him knowingly. "I can see it's starting to hurt. Make yourself comfortable and I'll get us some tea." emAnd hopefully, pull myself together a bit better. /em/p
p class="MsoNormal"He does as I say- though at this point he knows me well enough to know when to listen./p
p class="MsoNormal"My hands shake as I fill the kettle with water. I can feel his eyes on me. They feel like needles digging into my skin, driving fear into me./p
p class="MsoNormal"What if I'm no good at this? What if we lose it? What if he thinks its too early? A mistake?/p
p class="MsoNormal"I want to be able to step up to the task of solo-parenting but something in me screams that I would be no good. Will my baby even like me? Will emhe /emeven like me after I tell him?/p
p class="MsoNormal"I set up the kettle and let it simmer over the stove./p
p class="MsoNormal"Peeta pats the spot next to him on the armchair, urging me to go and sit with him./p
p class="MsoNormal""Come, you can tell me about your day today."/p
p class="MsoNormal"I can't resist the urge to sit next to him, so I sit and curl my feet up beneath his leg, my toes cold from not wearing socks. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, holding me to him, while his other hand rests on my hip. This armchair really isn't made for two people, but the closeness calms me down./p
p class="MsoNormal""I didn't get up to much. I saw Haymitch." emLie "/em -And he says he's doing fine. Eating. Moving."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Peeta gives me a look, he knows. He knows. He knows I'm lying. And he can tell that I know as my face falls when he doesn't buy it./p
p class="MsoNormal""Haymitch came into the bakery today, hung around a while. So you weren't with him. And I would guess you were in bed today, except someone said they saw you going into the clinic."/p
p class="MsoNormal""Well, if you knew where I was today why did you bother asking me?" I snap defensively, right as the kettle begins to whistle./p
p class="MsoNormal"I get up from where we're sat on the armchair to pour the tea. Except my hands are shaking so badly that I spill most of the water and don't notice Peeta come up behind me and steady my hand./p
p class="MsoNormal""I can pour a cup of tea, Peeta!" He takes a step back as I lean against the counter, facing him, calming my breaths. emOkay, Katniss. It's just like Dr Aurelius said. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. In. Out. /emspan style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p
p class="MsoNormal""I'm just trying to help." His tone tells me he wants to leave. And I want him to leave. "I can tell whatever it is, it's important. Because if it weren't you wouldn't lie to me about it. You can come and find me when you're ready to share."/p
p class="MsoNormal"And as if I hadn't dug the knife into myself hard enough today, right as he reaches the door he turns around. I want him to come back and hug me and tell me that it's okay. But he doesn't./p
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p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; padding: 0cm; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;""I thought we were past this."/p
/div
p class="MsoNormal"My nightmares that night aren't about Prim. Or the games. This one centres around a child./p
p class="MsoNormal"The child in front of me has curly, golden hair, but has my grey eyes and complexion. There is no doubt in my mind who this is. I'm holding her, and she's wailing and wailing and wailing./p
p class="MsoNormal"emWhat's wrong? /emI wrack my brain for anything my mother might have mentioned about calming children, but I only ever saw her with them in the medical capacity when they had the measles or the flu. Never like this. Not since Prim./p
p class="MsoNormal"I hold the child close to me and try and sing it to sleep. And it feels like hours pass and she's still not calming down. A bottle appears. I try to feed her. Screaming. Maybe she needs to be changed. More screaming. And eventually, I'm crying in frustration and anger. Not at the child. Never at her. Despite the crying, she has a sweet face. Like her father./p
div style="mso-element: para-border-div; border: none; border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;"
p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; padding: 0cm; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;"emYou're a horrible mother. You couldn't help Prim and now you can't even help your own baby. What kind of a mother are you?/em/p
/div
p class="MsoNormal"I wake up in a cold sweat, crying hysterically, fear gripping my chest like a vice. I sit up, curling up into a ball. I know there is only one person who can help me keep my calm. And at the thought, I bold upright and out of the bed, foregoing putting on shoes or a jacket that's needed in the torrential rain that's set upon us overnight./p
p class="MsoNormal"And before I feel like I've blinked, I'm on his front porch knocking on his door, still feeling the tears as they drip down my face. And when he doesn't come to the door like I hoped he would, I resort to yelling. "Peeta! Peeta!"/p
p class="MsoNormal"Maybe he's not going to answer the door because you're horrible and don't deserve him. I feel like a vulnerable little lamb out here in the rain. /p
p class="MsoNormal""emYou could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve that boy." /emThe comment rings through my head, driving my hysterics./p
p class="MsoNormal"I feel like I'm yelling and knocking and knocking and yelling for years before he answers the door, and by that time Haymitch has poked his head out of his own house and told me to shut up before slamming the door closed again./p
p class="MsoNormal"At the sight of me in hysterics, barefoot, in my clothes from when he last saw me and not my pyjamas, absolutely soaking wet, he steps aside so I can come in very quickly./p
p class="MsoNormal""Sorry I didn't hear you- it's raining pretty hard and I was in the shower." I can see the back of his shirt is wet and his hair is dripping over his eyes./p
p class="MsoNormal"I know I'm dragging water in with me, but the relief of him opening the door for me overtakes any feeling of dread./p
p class="MsoNormal""Are you-" He begins to ask, at the same time that I blurt out-/p
p class="MsoNormal""I'm pregnant."/p
p class="MsoNormal"I wait a few seconds as it registers on his face. His face morphs from confusion, to fear, to understanding. And when he doesn't say anything, and the panic creeps back in, I take a step away from him back towards the door./p
p class="MsoNormal""I just came to say that to you. I, uh, just thought you deserve to know."/p
p class="MsoNormal"emHe also deserves to have a kid with someone who's not fundamentally broken, and look where you are. /em/p
p class="MsoNormal"He doesn't want me here. He hasn't said anything. He's just standing there. My hands are sore and shaking from the cold as I open his front door again, fully intending to go back home when one warm hand wraps itself around my wrist and another reaches over my head to close the door./p
p class="MsoNormal"I rest my head against the closed door. I don't want to face him. I don't want to see the look on his face. The fear of rejection runs through me so so consistently I can hardly feel my feet. Maybe it was the standing in the rain. I can feel him standing behind me, so close I can feel his warmth through my shirt./p
p class="MsoNormal""Stay." His hands move and wrap around me. "Please." I tense in surprise as he leans his head on my shoulder. And I hardly interpret my own shaking from crying until he turns me around and I bury my face in his shirt. His hands rub my back soothingly. It's like some sort of witchcraft, the way that I feel about him. The way I feel around him./p
p class="MsoNormal"His hands slide down to my legs and he effortlessly picks me up. After all these years, his strength still catches me by surprise. I don't register where we're going- just that he's here. He's letting me be here./p
p class="MsoNormal""You're so cold. Why did you leave the house without a jacket?" He doesn't say it angrily- he's concerned. He sits me on the bathroom counter and I let out an embarrassing whimper when he lets me go to turn the bath on./p
p class="MsoNormal"I look at him as he rummages around to get a flannel and the soap. He's so caring. He would be the perfect father./p
p class="MsoNormal"Once he feels that everything is in place, he comes to stand in front of me, and lets my hands latch onto his shirt./p
p class="MsoNormal""I'm so scared." I choke out as his hands move to take off the offending, cold pieces of clothing./p
p class="MsoNormal"The shirt I had been wearing lands on the floor with a dull emthud./em/p
p class="MsoNormal"Warm hands encase my face as he brings it up to look him in the eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? We're okay."/p
p class="MsoNormal"He looks away as he finishes removing my clothing and settles me in the tub. It's so hot it almost hurts as I get in. He's so kind to me, even when I don't deserve it./p
p class="MsoNormal"He doesn't leave me like I anticipate him to. He sits by the edge of the bath, giving me my privacy, while also caressing my shoulder. He makes sure to keep a hand on me as I warm up, reinforcing the idea that I am not alone. And he is here now./p
p class="MsoNormal""Turn around and tilt your head back," He tells me. I do as he asks and feel warm water travelling down the back of my head before he massages my scalp with soap./p
p class="MsoNormal"I don't remember the last time anyone looked after me like this. The times we were getting ready for interviews and the chariots before we went into the arena were different. The prep team would wash my hair, but never like this. There was something different- emloving-/em in the way that Peeta was washing my hair right now. I supposed the last time this happened, I must have been sick as a child, and my father was helping me warm up in the bitter cold./p
p class="MsoNormal"Once he's done rinsing the soap out, one of his hands comes around to hold my chin. He turns my face around to look at him and tilts my head to kiss me square on the lips./p
p class="MsoNormal""Thank you." Is all he says to me, as I turn around to face him fully. He must see the confusion on my face before he continues. "For telling me. For letting me be here with you and not fighting me."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Part of me is also surprised by my own calm actions./p
p class="MsoNormal"His blue eyes feel like they're piercing through me as he says "You're going to be a great Mum."/p
p class="MsoNormal"It's like he can read my thoughts and knows exactly where my head is, or was. Because the second those words leave his mouth, I find myself beginning to believe them. Maybe I won't be as hopeless as I feel./p
p class="MsoNormal"After he's helped me dress, he sits me on the side of the bed and comes to settle by my feet. He grabs a pair of socks and slides them over my still cold feet. Instead of getting up and joining me, however, he stays sat by my feet and instead glides his hands up my legs to rest on my stomach./p
p class="MsoNormal"A small smile comes to rest on his lips, and the look he gives me makes me want to do this all over again, just for the chance that he might look at me again like this./p
p class="MsoNormal""You have no idea how happy you've just made me." He presses a light kiss to the fabric covering my stomach, before standing and sliding back the covers for us to get into them./p
p class="MsoNormal"I come to rest, head on his chest, one of his arms around my shoulders and the other reaching across and resting over my waist. I could sleep and dream endlessly here, at this moment with him./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal" /p