Peeniss/Everlark Baby One Shot Part Two
He opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. Instead, he flung his arms around me, and we stood in a warm embrace for a few minutes. Finally, he pulled away, his expression soft and loving. He raised one eyebrow, but nothing about his expression changed. "What changed?" he asked, and for a moment I had forgotten I ever declined him of having a baby. He was so happy, so incredibly happy, that it made my heart skip a beat. I had almost forgotten what it was like to see him like this.
"I was thinking, by the lake, about how my father used to take me there." The mention of my father's name would usually be painful, but it wasn't possible for anything to ruin the overwhelming joy that swept over me when I saw Peeta's face. "And I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to take my kids there, to teach them how to swim, to show them how to hunt," my smile grew wider, and Peeta softly brushed the back of his hand against my cheek. "And then I thought of you, showing your kids how to bake. Seeing the look on their face when they finally perfect a recipe." Peeta said nothing, he just smiled at me and held me tighter. He was looking into my eyes, and he didn't have to speak for me to know what he was thinking. "You're going to be a great father, you know."
"I love you," he finally spoke, and when he did, his voice was softer than I had ever heard it. He leaned in, gently brushing his lips against mine, and held the kiss only for a moment. He moved his hand down to my stomach, holding it there. "And you're going to be an amazing mother." A memory tugged at the back of my mind, a memory that I've been trying to keep out for years. It was a good memory, but it belonged to a terrible story. Suddenly I was back in the arena, and Peeta was convincing me that he should die and I should live. He put his hand on my stomach and told me that I would make a great mother someday.
But he was putting on a show back then, and this was real. This time, I'm not a seventeen-year-old girl who's acting desperately in love with someone—not to mention pregnant with his baby—in order to survive. I am in love with Peeta, and I would do anything I can to make him happy. He read the expression on my face, and I felt his body tense against mine.
"Don't do this just for me," he murmured, his arms still around me. "I want you to want to have a baby with me."
"I do want to," I replied, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I want to have kids with you, Peeta. I want to watch them grow up, I want to teach them what my father taught me. I want you to teach them how to bake and paint and I want them to be exactly like you."
"And you," he added, and I just shook my head. Suddenly I could hear Haymitch's words echoing in my head. You could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him. It was true. Peeta had loved me since he first met me, and then he loved me again even though his brain was hijacked and he was made to believe I was dangerous. And I had treated him so terribly. I hadn't appreciated Peeta the way I do now. I'll never be able to stop owing him for everything he has done for me.
"They should be more like you," I responded, my voice unsteady. "You have better qualities than I do." My eyes were still locked on his, but there was now a blankness in his eyes. I could tell my words were upsetting him, so I tried to change the subject. "Anyway, we should sleep, Peeta. It's late, and—"
"You're perfect to me," he interrupted, and the blankness was gone. His gaze was so intense that I closed my mouth, letting him speak. "After all this time, you still don't know the effect you can have." His mouth twitched into a slight smirk—so slight it was almost like it wasn't there. And then his mouth was on mine, and my eyes had closed shut. The softness of his lips against mine was gone, replaced by passion that made me know he wasn't going to pull away anytime soon. I kissed him back just as intensely, letting my body and mind relax at his touch. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his fingers were tangled in my hair.
Suddenly my back was pressed against the arm of the couch, and I leaned back and lied down; he moved with me like a magnet, our lips never parting. He slid my hunting jacket off, followed by my shirt, and I took his shirt off, tossing it aside. Our lips connected again and we were kissing more passionately than before. Before I knew it, all our clothes were off and we were both panting heavily against each other's lips, breathless from all the kissing. He parted our lips, but kept his forehead against mine. I could feel his warm breath against my chin, and it sent goosebumps all over my bare body.
"You think it's time to make a baby. Real or not real?" he whispered, his lips inches from mine.
"Real," I replied in a soft whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, and his lips were immediately back on mine.