(A/N: I do not own any part of the Hunger Games trilogy. The only thing I own is bits of the plot that I'll be incorporating into the story. Thank you for the reviews and favorites, xoxo.)
Peeta places his warm hand on my stomach, almost as though he could somehow verify if I was pregnant or not. The upcoming wave of nausea seemed verification enough for me.
I start counting back. When was the last time I'd even had my period? And then it occurs to me that somehow I didn't realize that I'd missed it for so long. The last time I remembered being on my period was the week before Peeta and I had sex for the first time. Almost 7 weeks later, I ought to have gotten it by now.
After flushing down what little contents of my stomach I had left to throw up, I go to the full length mirror behind the door of our bathroom. I place a hand on my stomach and look at myself from the side. Could it be true? Am I really carrying Peeta's baby?
My thoughts are interrupted by two strong arms circling around my waist. "Katniss, this is…"
"Awful," I finish his thoughts out loud. I can't have a baby. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never have children. I wouldn't be a good mother, and even though the war is over, I don't want to bring a child into it.
"Awful?" Peeta repeats. He holds me tighter. "I was thinking more along the lines of wonderful." I turn to face him.
"How can you possibly think that this is wonderful, Peeta? I can't be a mother…" I sink into myself a little, thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong if I had a child.
"Because we are having a child. Katniss, you're not in this alone, you know." He whispers, finishing his sentence with a small kiss. "You beat the Capitol, you saved all the districts from more games, from losing more children. You can do anything." He kisses me gently. "We don't have to worry about our children being sent to the games," he adds. He knows exactly what to say. I was, in the recesses of my mind, actually worried about our children having to go off to the games some day.
He leans down and kisses my eyelids, wiping my tears away with his thumb. His hand lingers on my face. "You don't have to do this alone," he promises before kissing me again, this time on the lips.
I open my mouth, try to say something funny, something to make me seem stronger. To say… something. But instead of words, a broken sob falls out of my mouth and I crumple to my knees. This is the first time I remember having such a bad break down since before the Quarter Quell. Peeta falls to his knees beside me and pulls me into his arms. "Shhh… Katniss, love, calm down." He rocks me gently, trying to soothe me. "We'll go see your mother, she knows more about this than either of us do." He holds me tighter, and all I can do is nod. Mother will surely know what to do.
Hours later, we're dressed and walking over to mother's house. I try to control my nausea, but as soon as she lets us inside I run as fast as I possibly can to the bathroom.
I vaguely hear a soft exchange of chatter over the sound of my purging. When I finally come out of the bathroom, my mother takes me into her arms and I cry. "How late are you?" She asks me, taking her nurse's tone instead of a motherly one.
I think for a moment back to the number that I counted to earlier. "8 weeks. I missed 2 periods." She orders me to stretch out on the couch and lift my shirt up to just under my bosom. After a few moments of gentle poking and prodding from my mother, she looks up at me with a stoic face but a soft twinkle in her eye.
"You're pregnant," she tells me. She guides my hand to my stomach where she presses it down lightly, and there it is. My son, or daughter. A small lump in my stomach as of right now, but one that will flourish within the 28 or so weeks to come.
But in feeling the lump in my stomach, I feel something in my heart as well. A little flutter. I can't help the smile that comes to my face, and I look over to Peeta who cautiously smiles back.
"Peeta, come here," I whisper, for some reason being unable to raise my voice to above that level. He walks over to me and I take his hand in mine, pressing it gingerly into my abdomen. I feel that flutter again, and he stares, awestruck, at his fingertips.
"Is that… That's our baby," he whispers to himself. He looks to me for reassurance, almost asking quietly if we're going to go through with this. I nod. "That's our baby," I confirm.
"Unfortunately," my mom chimes in, "I have to run to a patient's house. He has the flu, and needs some new medication for it." She kisses my cheek and hugs Peeta's shoulders. "Come back in 2 weeks for another check up, we'll see how the baby is coming along." Peeta helps me up and pulls me into his arms, giving me a sweet kiss on the forehead.
We hold hands as we walk from my mother's house back to our own. As soon as we get back into the house, he closes the door and pulls me into a deep kiss that I simply can't refuse. My arms wrap themselves around his neck, my hands moving from his neck into his hair, pulling his face closer to mine. Our lips crash like the waves of the Quarter Quell arena, and before I can realize what's happening, my back is against the wall. Our kissing turns into an all out war, fighting for domination over each other. He holds my hands and efficiently pins me up against the wall, grinding his hips into mine. We part for air, and his gaze burns into mine.
"You know, we never did finish this morning." He says, voice husky from our kiss. He lets go of my hands and pulls my tee shirt up out of my pants and over my head. He gazes hungrily at my almost bare torso. "Beautiful," he whispers, reaching behind me to peel my bra away from my skin. "Just beautiful." He repeats. His hands move from my back to my breasts, where he holds each one in his hands and massages them. His thumbs brush across my hardened nipples, moving them in small circles. I let a moan slip from my mouth. He leans down to take one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting on it gently. I feel heat radiating down into my core. He kisses from my breasts down my stomach and he places a hand there.
"Beautiful," he whispers into my skin, referring to the stomach that harbors his child. His skilled fingers unbutton my jeans and easily slide me out of them. Against the wall, I'm there before him in only my underwear. He unbuttons his shirt and pulls it away from his skin, leaving him bare chested before me. He kisses me again, this time a little bit softer than before. While we're kissing, I unbutton his jeans, dropping them to the ground with his boxers to let him step out of them and kick them to the side. He pushes against me so my back is completely flat against the wall and his hard member is pressed against my abdomen. I drop down to my knees in front of him, the tip of his length running up past my breasts and then just away from my mouth. I look up at him with big eyes before I take him into my mouth. His hands find their way to my head, his fingers into my long brown hair. He weaves himself into my hair and then guides the motion of my head, back and forth. He glides in and out of my mouth, the taste of him is heavy on my tongue. He groans.
"Oh, fuck, Katniss. I need you." I look up at him before I slide away from his hard member and stand up again.
"Then take me." I dare him. It doesn't take saying it more than once. Before the sentence even leaves my mouth, he has my legs around his waist and me further up against the wall. He slides me down the wall and efficiently down onto him. Once he's completely sheathed in my wet folds, we each let out a moan and then relish the feel of each other's bodies. After a few tender moments, he starts thrusting into me. One of my arms cling to him while the other one grips the wall itself as a form of support. I feel him thrusting easily into my wet depths, sliding with our natural lubrication. I moan loudly as he adjust his rhythm and his roughness. He's pounding into me, the whole house shaking, before I feel myself start to reach the peak of orgasm. I feel him seem to get bigger in me, which means I must be getting tighter around him. He thrusts one last time and he spills his seed into me as I cry out. We're both panting, shaking. He turns so his back is against the wall and we both come to a pile on the floor. He picks me up, pulling out of me, and then holds me in his lap. I cuddle up against his chest.
"I love you," he says into m neck. I can't help the smile that comes to my face when he adds, "And the baby."
"And we love you, too."