Disclaimer: All names, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. I only own my original content and characterization. Heads up to my lovely Beta for helping out with this chapter and getting it up quickly.

Three Months Prior

I flush, heated in anger, and the thoughts of what had gone on between us. "Just because I let you... doesn't give you any right to me, Peeta." I take a sip of his drink. "From now on, stay out of my life."

"Katniss," he yells out very loudly from behind me. I am certain people are staring at us, I know it, but I continue on, pushing past the crowds of people and stumbling down the town square.

And then I notice, halfway to the apothecary, that he's still following me. "Do you make a habit of this," I turn around, hands crossed over my chest and walking backwards, "of following young girls around alone. That's the type of thing that gets a man run out of town."

He grins at me, as if we aren't in this situation, as if I am not doing everything in my power to avoid him. "

It's not something I have made a habit of, no. It's just that you have a tendency to run, and well, I follow."

I pause, pulling my coat tighter to my body. "Something about you makes me want to flee. Chalk it up to intuition."

He laughs, pausing to take a glance at his pocket watch. "Flee? I certainly didn't get that sense in the cabin...or the woods."

We stand there in the middle of the town square, him ten paces away from me and me leaning against the side of the bakery. "Well that was a mistake. A moment's lapse of judgement, you can say."

His voice raises high in mockery. "I don't think it was a lapse of judgement so much as lust. Lust is a powerful thing, my dear."

I scowl. "Don't call me that."

"Call you what?" He asks with the raise of an eyebrow, as if to challenge me.

"My dear," I reply, even though he knows exactly what I meant.

"I feel like I have earned that honor, but I will concede if you agree to move this conversation to somewhere a bit more private. My railcar is right down there," he says, nodding to the station not thirty paces away.

"Earned that honor?" I scoff. "Tell me exactly how you have earned anything from me?"

He strolls closer to me and leans down against the brick wall. "You're right," he whispers into my ear, his hands sliding around the sides of my dress. "I didn't even make you finish. But this time, if you give me the chance, I swear it will be no mistake."

I shove him off of me, flushing red. "You're disgusting."

"I'm sorry, you obviously don't want to discuss the fact that I have been between your thighs."

"You think I'm a whore," I say matter of factly. "Th-that's why you -" I slump down against the building, my dress muddying in a puddle below me. I tuck my head into my dress as the tears fall down against my cheeks. I can't even be bothered to be embarrassed by Peeta's presence.

"Oh," he says awkwardly sitting beside me. "I don't - don't cry, please. I meant what I said in jest, not in malice."

"Maybe I am one," I cry. "A whore, that is."

"Come on," he says, wrapping his arms cautiously around me. "I don't think you want anybody to see us. Here, I will take you back to my railcar and fix you a drink."

I shake my head into my dress.

"I won't touch you, not like that," he says. "I swear."

"Fine," I say, looking up at him. My face is red and most likely splotchy, the last thing I need is to be caught crying in the square with Peeta Mellark. What then will people think?

The train car is something like a dream, a mix of mahogany and green velvet grander than any building in the town square. I wonder how much money it cost Peeta, how many years of labor a man like my father or Gale would have to go through in order to afford something like this. Several lifetimes, I bet.

"Here," Peeta says, moving towards the seat I have taken on one of the parlor chairs. "I have some cookies, some water. If you want something stronger I can get it from the cabinet."

"I'm good with the water," I say, barely looking up at him. I take a sip from the glass he offers me, not bothering to check out the caramel colored cookies he has placed on a napkin before me. I don't recognize them from the bakery, perhaps he had them custom made. What did they cost then, I wonder. A pence, perhaps?

He approaches me cautiously. "I can get you some aspirin if you want?"

I shake my head. "I never meant to...ruin you," he says taking a seat beside me. "Or upset you."

"No," I say, curling up into the seat. "It is hardly your fault. I asked it of you, I wanted as much."

He looks down at me, eyes bright and blue and stunning, and I wonder how I got here, how I got to a point where I allowed him to see me like this.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have - I shouldn't have, I should go." I reach for my now muddy skirts which have created marks on the floor and stand up.

"Don't leave," he says, reaching for my hand. His hand is abnormally warm for the night and it causes heat to run through my chilled fingers. The pads of his thumb trace gentle circles on the inside of my hand. "They'll assume things if you return…"

"And they won't assume things if I never return?"

"We can at least say we both went home then. Returning to the festival forty minutes after leaving makes it look like we snuck off for a liaison. More importantly, look at your dress. A button is torn and your skirts are muddy. You can't go back like that."

He's right. My hair is mussed and the top button to my dress is torn. I can't be seen going back like that. "I'm going to head home, then," I tell him. "Head to bed."

Peeta frowns. "At this hour of the night? Alone? At least allow me to accompany you."

"Certainly you realize I am hardly the type of woman that needs to be accompanied home. You know full well I go into the woods by myself. I think it is you who needs the protection here, not me."

"Fine then," he laughs, "protect me. Allow me your company on the walk back to my room."

I smile at him, letting go of his hand. "Your room is a good hundred yards away from here. You'll survive."

He grabs onto my hand again, pulling me back into my seat. "You're going to get the chair muddy," I hiss.

He shakes his head against me, and it's in that moment that I feel it again, the hunger that consumed me that night in the cabin. And he's just so close, his lips mere inches from mine. Loose strands of blonde hair cascade onto my neck and it doesn't take much for me to lose control.

I press my lips to his, hovering over his bottom lip and nipping at it. He seems befuddled at first, almost hesitant, but then his hands find my waist and he pulls his body over mine, dragging me downwards into the small settee.

"Are you sure?" he asks, hovering over me and pushing the hair away from my face. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I'm sure," I murmur into his neck. Whatever I am doing with him is probably a bad idea, but I have already given him my virtue - what's another encounter going to do?

Present

"Just come," I say, grabbing on to the edge of Gale's sleeve, "and don't make a scene here, you don't want that."

Gale follows me wordlessly through the square but even still I can feel the heat of his anger burning from behind me. He will kill Peeta, I think, when he discovers I am pregnant.

"Okay," Gale says as he closes the door to Peeta's small boarding house apartment. His body hovers against the frame and I remember how tall he is in the moment, how domineering he can be. "Explain yourself, explain what you have done to Katniss."

"Do you want some tea?" Peeta asks, reaching to stand up.

Gale shakes his head. "I want answers. Lord, Katniss, does your mother know about whatever this is?"

"Well..." Peeta starts, but I cut him off.

"My mother knows, Gale. And I wanted to tell you, but I knew you wouldn't react kindly. That's why you have to promise not to do anything when I say this, alright?"

Gale casts a glance at Peeta. "I can't promise that, Catnip."

"Gale…" I trail off, reaching for the cuff of his sleeve. "Please?"

Gale's eyes lock on mine and he sighs. "Okay, Katniss. I promise."

I lead Gale to one of the wearing red settees and take a spot on the opposite chair beside Peeta. I pull anxiously at the thread of of the cushioning fabric, have to stop myself from pulling through to the stuffing. Peeta's boarding room is a stark contrast to the finery of his clothes and train car. It is nice, surely, even by merchant standards, but Peeta must think it's clapboard walls and pale wooden furniture practically barbaric by comparison. I wonder if that is how he sees me, insignificant and lowly in contrast to the girls he knows back home.

I take a deep breath and stare at the boy who I was once expected to marry. "Gale, I'm pregnant."

Disclaimer: This chapter was somewhat short, but I wanted to get something out to y'all without revealing too much! What do you think of Katniss's conversation with Peeta? Is she making a mistake in sleeping with him?

As always, you can find me on tumblr at starveinsafety and everlarkfanfictionclub. I post a lot of inspiration pics on there as well as on my weheartit account, which is under the same user as my account. Remember to favorite/follow!