Disclaimer: All names, places, and characters belong to their respective owners. I only own my original content and creation. Big thanks to my beta dandelionlass for all her help with this story.

Two Months Prior

"I want you to come with me," he says all of a sudden. "The Capitol is absolutely beautiful this time of year, you would love it. I promise. It would be just the two of us, after all, away from all of these people. I could show you the coast, bring you to the beach. Perhaps we could even see Charleston?"

The Capitol, as it had been dubbed for the location of Panem's regional office, is a bustling coastal town, the wealthiest in the state. It's no surprise to me that Peeta is headed there, of course, but I still feel shock at the thought of him being so far away.

I let his offer sink in for a moment. I'm not quite sure what he means in propositioning me this way. Surely he knows I can't go with him?

I scoff. "I can't come with you. We hardly know each other."

He smiles softly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face, "I'd say we know each other quite well, all things considered."

"Peeta…" I trail off, sighing.

"No," he shakes his head, looking downward, "you're right, it was a stupid idea. I just, I just thought—" He stops himself open mouthed, frowning. "Nevermind."

I shrug, ignoring the lump that's forming in the back of my throat. I hadn't thought about him leaving. Practically, I knew he would be gone sooner or later. But whenever I thought about it, despite the short time we had spent together, I always imagined Peeta as a constant in my life.

"Well," I say, gesturing back to his lap. "Last huzzah?"

His forehead wrinkles. "No," he replies. "No last huzzah. No last anything."

I shift upward, scowling at him. "Why not?" I ask. Does he mean to leave me and reject me all at once?

The tips of his fingers drag along the side of my body. "I've always hated goodbyes…" he says, "and I don't want there to be a last between us. That sounds so final."

"Well it is final," I retort. "No sense in sugarcoating it. We might as well...if I'm never going to see you again. Besides," I frown, "isn't that why you brought me out here?"

"Not everything has to be about that, Katniss."

"Why not?" I ask, perplexed by his sudden sense of romanticism. "Isn't that what this is about?"

"When you share somebody's bed," he pauses, looking down at me, "you share more than kisses and touches and bodies. You share a connection, an intimacy, a knowledge that can never be erased."

I roll my eyes at him. "We screwed on the dirt floor of the forest, Peeta."

"We made love in the garden of the gods," he tilts his head, his tone laced with fake sincerity, "surrounded by the purest things in the world."

"You talk too much," I laugh, slipping my body over his so that I hover over him, my hands bracing against the blanket. I part my mouth teasingly and press a small kiss to the crook of his shoulder. "Fine, then," I tell him, "if you're so keen on making love, go ahead and show me."

His mouth is on mine before anything else. It's a soft kiss, not lacking in need but not quite so desperate as our others. "You're beautiful," he says, staring down at me as he rests my head on the blanket.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reply with a smile that turns into a gasp as his head ducks underneath my dress, his teeth pulling at my undergarments. His fingers brush past me, teasing, as he removes the bits of clothing one by one.

I reach up a little in an attempt to make a grab for his belt buckle, but his hands stop me, pushing me downwards. "Relax," he says, brushing a kiss against my wrist. "We'll get to that."

His hands move to that spot between my legs, a finger slipping inside of me as my eyes flutter shut with pleasure. "I wish I could undress you," he murmurs against my ear. "I wish I could keep you bare and in my bed forever."

He presses a kiss against my nose, his fingers halting as he moves to unbutton his pants. And then, just like that, he's pushing inside of me, drawing in and out at a gradually increasing pace. It feels heavenly, the pulsing heat eradicating the chill of the day.

I snap my eyes open as I feel a shot of pleasure go through my body, a tensing that seems to draw from my toes to my shoulders. On instinct, I wrap my arms around him, my fingers digging into his shoulders in an attempt to relieve some of the building pressure inside of me. He's looking at me, his blue eyes peering down at the girl beneath him with a reverent stare. I don't think he expects me to catch him, because his eyes flit away when I look up at him. We look at each other for what feels like eternity, our eyes examining the other with patient curiosity. It should be uncomfortable, but it's not. It's just us...the two of us, with no separations or divides.

Last huzzah indeed.

It's afterwards, when he's lying beside me, our still clothed bodies staring up at the sky above, that he says, "You should come with me. Please."

"I can't," I tell him. "You know I can't."

There's some talk of Peeta's leaving the next morning. Most of it seems to come from girls disappointed that he hasn't proposed to them or something along those lines.

I avoid it, avoid him, rather. After completing my Sunday morning trades, I stop by the Hawthorne's house, opting to go hunting with Gale over seeing Peeta off.

I feel a pang of guilt as the two of us walk into the woods, moving farther and farther away from the train station. It's not like I have any responsibility towards Peeta, or any reason to bid him farewell, but at the same time I feel like I should go see him. I can't, of course, for the same reason I can't go with him to the Capitol, but nonetheless I feel like I ought to. But there's no sense in risking my reputation for a silly fling.

Besides, Peeta and I will most likely never see each other again. Gale, however, will be here in Twelve with me for the rest of his life. And it's not like he gets many days off as it is. Peeta, on the other hand, has all the time in the world.

"So," Gale asks as he breaks off a section of wire, working the bent metal into a trap, "Peeta Mellark is leaving today?"

"Yeah," I shrug absentmindedly, trying to focus on setting the string of my bow. "I heard."

Gale pauses to look up at me. His forehead wrinkling ever so slightly as he asks, "You...hear it from him?"

I bite my tongue, and shake my head in response. "No, I just...heard. Does it matter?"

He looks at me, an unspoken question on his tongue. "Guess not."

I give him a halfhearted smile. "We better get going before the sun sets," I say, peering out at the horizon.

He nods wordlessly, finishing off his trap before setting out behind me. We trudge along the dirt trail for a while, before diverting out into the far edge of the woods. It's a good day for hunting. The start of fall has brought a new round of berries-not to mention edible plants and all sorts of small game.

But it's the turkey that's the real prize. Even after the Harvest Festival, I know I can sell a turkey. So when I spot the creature pecking at a bed of leaves, I freeze, silently motioning to Gale before lining up the shot and nailing the bird dead straight in the eye.

I'm just about to put the turkey in my game bag when I hear it.

"What are you doing here?" a strong, unfamiliar voice asks. I whip around in the other direction, but before I can spring forward out of instinct, Gale's cold hands stop me. In front of us is a middle aged man, well dressed and pointing a gun at us.

"You're committing a crime," the man says, his eyes nodding in our directions. "Stealing from the railroad," he shakes his head, "no gratefulness for their generosity."

I swallow hard, the dead turkey hanging in my hands clear evidence of my guilt. From behind me I feel Gale raise his hand, and then—

"Don't move!" the man barks, cocking the gun. "My name is Romulus Thread, and you are under arrest."

Present

He scoffs. "You practically raised Prim, look at how much she adores you. And one day, our baby will love you just as much as Prim does."

"We're having a baby…" I sigh, the thought rolling over me. "We're having a baby."

I wonder what Peeta's baby will look like. Blue eyed and blonde haired like him, or dark like me. I hope for the child's sake it shares a resemblance with Peeta. I don't doubt there will be questions of paternity from his friends and relatives...

He laughs, squeezing my hand. "I think that's been previously established."

"Are we supposed to talk about this?" I ask him, pursing my lips. Everything has happened so quickly, telling him about the baby, agreeing to marry him…we haven't even discussed how this is going to work out, how he, of all people, is going to be my husband.

He raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, aren't we already talking about this?"

"I mean," I pause, "what if you want to raise the child one way, and I want to raise it another? Or what if you want to name the baby something that I don't like. Or what if—"

He stops me dead with a kiss. It's a tactic I've used on him more than once, but that doesn't mean I don't frown at the diversion.

"Peeta…" I start, drawing up for air. "You didn't answer my question."

"What?" he asks, tilting his head and looking more innocent than he really ought to. Then, reaching for my hand, he plays with my ring a little. "You see this pearl?" he asks, lifting my hand up. "It means that we will be one for the rest of our lives. And yes, we will probably disagree on things, but that doesn't have to be the end of the world. What children need more than anything is love, and I have no doubt that we can give ours that much."

The corners of my mouth lift upward in a smile. "All those pretty words won't save you when you're trying to name our child something awful like Cordelia or Crawford."

He laughs, wrapping his arms around me and pecking my neck. "We should probably take out the papers today," he says absentmindedly. "I reckon news will spread, and it's not like we have time on our side. Better to put out announcements now and get this done by the end of week. Besides, I do want to get settled into the house before the baby comes."

"The house?" I wrinkle my forehead in confusion.

"For us and the baby, it's along the coast in the Capitol, a short train or boat ride from the ocean and close to my office downtown. My brother owns the property and I have been thinking of buying it from him for a while, it's the perfect place for our children to grow up."

A lump forms in the back of my throat. Peeta wants children, meaning more than one. I suppose it shouldn't be surprising. I will be his wife soon enough, and not long after that the mother of his firstborn. If he wants any more children, they will have to come from me.

"You want more than one, then?" I ask.

"More than one of what?" he looks down at me, frowning. "Oh," he adds in a moment of realization, "you mean children?"

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! What did you think of Peeta in this chapter? He's getting a bit attached, isn't he? Where do you think Thread came from? Let me know in the comment section below.

As always, you can find me on tumblr at starveinsafety, everlarkfanfictionclub, and girlonfirerecs. Make sure to check out my weheartit for this story, it provides a lot of visual context for the fic.