Peeta's POV
We are two weeks into strategizing our plan. The snow has nearly melted away now, leaving large patches of gray slush around my house. The seemingly dead trees in my front yard now have the tiniest pink buds emerging from the brittle branches. I sense spring is just around the corner-a good thing, too. It would be wise to travel during this time. Plants are reborn and animals reappear from hibernation, which mean the difference between life and death if we are stranded in the middle of the forest.
Recently, Katniss and I drew up a list of those who would be traveling with us. For some time, I was deeply torn with whether or not to ask my family to escape with us... but now I've decided against it. I'm worried they'll never come, or worse, turn us all in. Maybe I will see them some day, but I know what's my first priority... To protect Katniss. No matter what she feels for me, I want to keep her safe at all costs.
Haymitch met with us the today to discuss how to damage the electrical fence-a incredibly daunting task considering the stakes. He also somehow contacted the rebels to inform them of our plan. Hopefully, the spies within the Capitol can buy us time and distract Snow from discovering our escape... but I know it can't last long. We risk a deadly aftermath which may follow.
In the evening, I head into the bathroom and slide on my pajamas for the night. Katniss knocks on the door and I allow her in. We brush our teeth at the sink. I side glance at her, admiring how she takes out her dark waves from her usual braid. I keep forgetting she actually lives with me... It must be strange for her, but I don't mind it. I'm happy we can share the same bed and keep our nightmares at bay. I guess this is the closest I will ever get to having a relationship with her.
Katniss is somewhat quieter than usual as I throw back the comforter and we sink into bed. I gently grab her hand under the covers.
"You okay?"
Her silver eyes stare hard at the wall behind me, pondering something. Finally, she sighs.
"I just know we will need to come back here. If Thirteen is really planning a rebellion, shouldn't we rescue Twelve once we are able to?"
"Yeah, we should. I think we will if the rebellion happens," I reply. Katniss nods, but a trace of uneasiness is still on her face.
"You don't think Snow will drop firebombs on Twelve?" she asks. The image of the Merchant's Village collapsing as flames engulf it plays in my mind. I want to calm her, but honestly, I don't know the answer. Lately, Snow has seemed unpredictable. We've done everything he's asked us, even pretend that we're having a baby, yet he isn't convinced.
"I'm not sure, Katniss," I at last whisper. She bites her lip.
"This is the only way," she murmurs. She seems slightly distraught, yet at the same time determined and strong in her choice. Her fortitude has always struck me as powerful and beautiful. I know she wants to protect her family more than anything-and she thinks only by running away can she achieve it. I reach out my arms towards her, and she fits the empty space perfectly. Her head rests just at the crook of my neck, with her hands curled into my chest. My eyes flutter closed.
In the morning, we are scheduled for an update on the baby, a huge deal for the Capitol. With both of our prep teams, a new designer to sew baby clothes, and two trunks filled with "maternity wear," the whole event is absolutely ridiculous and unnecessary. But it's all for the people, as Effie constantly reminds us.
I stand in the bedroom awkwardly as everyone crowds around Katniss, and soon she is drowning in tape measurements, ribbons, and pink and blue fabric. Cinna picked out a special dress for Katniss and matching suit and tie for myself just for the segment. I try to slip outside to give Katniss privacy while she changes into her outfit, but Octavia, the lady with pea-green skin and a wide smile, grips my arm.
"Peeta, wait! We must see what you think of the dress!" I try to protest, but she shoves me into the armchair near the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I can tell Katniss is attempting to suppress her embarrassment as they strip her down. I suddenly become captured by the carpet on the floor.
"Hm, I thought you'd be showing more, dear," I hear Venia comment casually.
Uh oh. Of course they'll see Katniss's obviously flat stomach.
"Um... well my mom told me it depends on the person. I'm only... two months along," Katniss slowly replies, a hint of nervousness in her tone. A wave of understanding noises pass between the three members of her prep team.
"Oh, but it won't be long now! Soon, we'll have to style you in maternity outfits. Maybe we'll even get to help with the pregnancy photo shoot!" Flavius cries with glee.
Finally, Katniss is completely ready. She wears a delicate blue dress, which falls slightly off of her shoulders. I grin and tell her she looks absolutely stunning, not only for show but also because I really think she does. Her prep team gushes over us, and asks whether we think the child a girl or boy.
"I'm not sure," Katniss smiles, placing a hand on her abdomen.
"As long as their eyes look like hers," I add sweetly, wrapping an arm around her waist. The three of them practically go wild, expressing romantic sighs. Katniss and I keep up our impressive act throughout the segment, and I decide to repeat the same line when Caesar asks us a similar question. Even Effie, who I'm pretty positive knows we aren't actually pregnant, has tears in her eyes.
However, fear pokes at the back of my mind. People will begin questioning Katniss's absent signs of a baby, and we can't just make her wear a fake baby bump because her prep team constantly dresses her. Good thing we plan on departing soon. Next Monday, in fact, if everything goes as it should.
Gale has been chosen to damage the fence, for he knows an area already weak and slightly hidden by a great willow tree. The rebels will be informed two days prior, so they can prepare to distract the Capitol. Katniss decided to confide in Greasy Sae and her younger daughter to keep our houses looking alive and running, despite the fact that we'll be gone. She explained to them we plan to return. At least two people now have hope for a revolution to unfold.
I've begun baking goods to prepare for our travels. The bread should remain relatively fresh if I keep each loaf wrapped tightly with plastic. Katniss and I don't have much we want to bring, so we will take one bag with our personal items and another for the food. Additionally, Haymitch has helped us store away weapons for each runaway. Everyone should at least receive a carving knife and a coil of rope. It's not much, but we also have some other weapons stored away in the woods thanks to Katniss and Gale.
On Sunday morning, I prepare to say my silent goodbyes to my family. I stop by the bakery to assist my dad with the morning bread.
"How's Katniss?" He asks kindly.
"She's good," I reply simply, kneading some dough between my fingers. I often times don't know how to explain my relationship with her to my family.
"And... the baby?" He wonders quietly.
"Doing well, so far," I try to say in a positive tone. I swallow, feeling sort of guilty for not giving him many updates on that. He usually is the first person I talk to about my personal life, and he does believe he's going to become a grandfather after all.
"That's-that's good," he answers, almost lost in thought.
"Sorry, dad," I mutter after a moment.
"For what?" He asks, his light eyebrows furrowing. I shrug.
"I know that Katniss and I-our situation is not ideal," I explain. When my family found out, my father and brothers were confused (and my brothers practically cackled and joked about how they couldn't believe I wasn't a virgin), but never gave the baby much thought after that. My mother, however, was temporarily paralyzed in horror before attempting to beat me, screaming that she'd been humiliated in front of the townspeople. At that point, I had already been expecting her tantrum. Now, she just refuses to speak to me.
"It's okay, son," my dad's voice breaks my trance. "You two love one another, and you have support from your winnings as a victor. There's no reason why a baby should be bad news," he pats my shoulder, dusting my shirt with thick flour. I give him a smile, appreciating his loving, unending support for me. It will be difficult leaving him behind. I desperately hope I will see him someday soon.