I know I said I would update Monday but work is annoying and life gets in the way…so here is a new chapter only two days late! :)
I'm met by the smell of freshly baked cheese buns as I make my way into the house. I drop my hunting bag on the ground in the kitchen, its filled as I haven't had time to drop stuff with Greasy Sae yet. I look around, expecting to see Peeta.
"Peeta?" I call out when I don't see him anywhere.
"Uh – up here Katniss!" I hear Peeta's voice drift down from the second floor and turn to make my way up the stairs.
I find Peeta where he usually is, his painting room.
"Hey" I say, walking in to find him facing the door, painting on a canvas. He looks up when he hears my voice and smiles, his dazzling smile making my own lips turn up. "What're you painting?"
"Oh, I had an idea" he turns the easel around so that I can see the painting.
Its pretty simple. Just a picture of the two of us in the meadow, surrounded by flowers. We're both laughing and it looks like we're having a picnic.
"Hey, I have an idea" I say slyly "Wanna have a picnic in the meadow?" Peeta grins widely and makes his way over to the door where I'm standing. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his forehead on mine.
"How did you know?" he whispers. I can't help but smirk at him before pressing my lips to his. He starts to deepen the kiss after a few seconds and I pull away. He looks confused, I smile and start walking backwards, pulling him with me by his hand.
"I believe we have a picnic to get to. We wouldn't want to get there after the sun goes down, now would we?" he chuckles and follows me down the stairs.
We end up sitting just beneath the huge willow tree in the middle of the meadow. Peeta sits with his back resting against the tree as I lay my head in his lap. We eat and laugh and play around, just like in his painting.
Finally, there's only one cheese bun left and we both reach for it at the same time. I giggle, snatching it from under his surprised hand.
"Well, I never!" Peeta gasps, feigning disbelief. I split the bun down the middle; just to humor Peeta, and stuff my half into my mouth. "Oh, now there are those manners Effie is always bragging about! You eat just like a classy Capitol citizen, Katniss."
I sit up, playfully smacking Peeta on the arm. "Eating for two now, remember?"
"Oh, I wanted to talk to you about that" Peeta says, suddenly becoming more serious.
"Yeah?" I ask, repositioning myself to sit across from Peeta with my legs crossed underneath me.
"Well, you know how we were planning on not telling anyone?" Peeta says slowly. I nod, so he continues "I was thinking that maybe we should tell Plutarch"
"What? Now? Why?" I'm confused; Peeta had been the one to originally suggest waiting to tell everyone. Now, here I am; barely even two months pregnant and he already wants to tell all of Panem.
"I – um, well…I thought maybe if we told people, it would be more real. You know, more set in stone" For once, Peeta seems to be at a loss for words. He doesn't know how to explain his reasons. But it's alright, because I already know what he means.
He thinks that by telling people, it will solidify the fact that I'm actually pregnant. That if everyone knows about the baby, we can't lose it. Even though it won't change anything, I know how he feels. I can see how that would make it seem real for Peeta, he likes other people to be able to confirm things for him. Sometimes he doesn't believe me that I was actually pregnant, when his mind gets fogged and his memory becomes fuzzy. I see his confusion. Things are better for him when more people can reinforce the fact that something did happen. It makes it more real for him.
"I understand Peeta" I whisper. I nod and smile for him "We can call Plutarch when we get home if you'd like"
His smile returns and he nods eagerly "I think if they get all the interviews and everything out of the way now, it'll be better anyway."
I lie back down in his lap and see that the sun is beginning to set.
"Look Peeta, the sunset" he lifts his eyes from my face and smiles at the beautiful colors dancing across the sky.
He begins to play with a few strands of my hair as we watch the sunset together. "I wish I could freeze this moment right here and stay in it forever"
I'm taken back to another scene on another day, much like this one. A day that was spent relaxing together, trying not to worry about the immediate danger and just enjoy the day. I spend a moment marveling at how much things have changed. We have no worries now and everything seems almost perfect.
Peeta breaks through my reverie with a question that catches me off guard.
"Sorry Peeta, what?" I ask, thinking that I must have heard him wrong.
"I asked if you've thought of names yet" Nope, definitely heard him right.
"It's a little early to be thinking about that now, don't you think?" I really don't want to think about the baby having a name. Names mean personalities. Personalities mean decisions and choices. I still don't feel ready to be thinking of parenting a child, shaping a life. I'm still scared.
Peeta's brow furrows for a moment before he answers "Well, we don't have to actually come up with a name. Just what we like and what we don't like, stuff like that."
I think for a moment. When we first found out we were having a baby, my immediate thought was of a little Prim. I remember her as a baby, and I had at first wanted to name my own child after her. In her memory. Now, it doesn't seem like such a good idea. It would be like a constant reminder, like every time I saw her, I would only think of Prim.
"I don't want to name her after anyone" I say after some thought.
"Her?" Peeta asks.
"Oh, well I guess I like to think of it as being a girl." I hadn't realized that my subconscious had begun to create my little girl without my knowledge.
"I thought you wanted a boy" Peeta inquired.
I had originally wanted a boy, a little Peeta. And while I still want a little Peeta, there is just something about the thought of having a boy. Its different now.
Like, whenever I picture a baby boy, I feel like I'm picturing him. The other baby. I start to feel bad, to feel guilty. It's as if we're replacing him.
"Peeta, do you ever feel like we're replacing him?" I ask quietly.
Peeta thinks for a moment before shaking his head. "No, we aren't replacing him. He'll always be the first one. And he'll live on, in here" he says, placing his warm hand on my chest, over my heart. He moves his hand to rest on my still flat stomach, before continuing "Maybe its still him. The same baby. I know its not really him, but maybe with the same personality, just a different body."
I hadn't thought of that; the same baby, just in a different body. For some reason, it comforts me. I no longer feel like we are replacing our unborn baby, just giving it a new life.
I smile, Peeta always knows just what to say to make me feel better. He always has more insight on situations.
By now, the sun is nearly gone and its getting darker by the second. I move to stand up and gather our things. Peeta helps me by putting all of the extra plates away in the basket.
He holds the basket in his left hand as we make our way down the path to the Victor's Village. I grab his right hand as we make our way to the house, walking in a comfortable silence. I can tell that Peeta is deep in thought, and I don't want to disturb him.
When we get into the house, Peeta begins to put everything away and I make my way into the sitting room, down the hall from the kitchen.
As I'm looking through the drawers to find Plutarch's number, I hear Peeta come in.
"You're really going to tell him now?" Peeta asks.
"Yes, where is his number?" Peeta walks over to a cabinet on the opposite side of the room. He opens it and pulls out a small piece of paper.
"I don't think you would have found it in that drawer" Peeta jokes. I roll my eyes and scowl at him, before dialing the number.
It rings. It rings. It ri-"Hello?"
Plutarch's voice on the other end startles me for a moment; I hadn't talked to him in months. He had told us that if we ever had news – meaning a pregnancy – that we had better call him before telling anyone else. Since there had been no news since the wedding, we hadn't talked much.
"Oh, hi Plutarch" I said awkwardly.
"Katniss! How are you? How's Peeta? How's everything?" Plutarch sent a throng of questions my way, asking one after another before I could answer any.
"Um, we're fine." was my only reply.
Plutarch sighed "Any…news?" It was obvious what he was wondering, I decided to just get right to the point.
"Yes actually. Some great news…"
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