Sorry for the long wait and the short chapter! I promise more to come later this week/weekend. I have a couple projects due aaand I added a new puppy to the family. So I've had my hands a bit full. So, still kicking but busy! Sorry again!

Katniss –

I awake in Peeta's arms. I want to shut my eyes and go back to sleep, but I can't. The nightmares have become worse since the Reaping. Every time I close my eyes, I see Rue's face. Her eyes stare up at me as the life drains away until those wide brown eyes become glassy and stare into nothingness. She was too young to die.

My stomach flips and I flinch, startling Peeta from his sleep.

"Katniss? Are you all right?"

My hands flutter over my stomach, over the bulge that has swollen to the size of a small basketball. Cinna has been clever, hiding me in swaths of cloth as Haymitch dictated; but this secret will be out in the open by the end of tomorrow night.

"Are you sick?" Peeta's hand brushes my forehead, checking for a fever. But I'm fine.

"I felt him kick," I tell him sheepishly, already feeling guilty for waking him. We have little time for rest now. We'll be in the arena by the end of the week.

Peeta shifts onto his elbow, propping himself up on the pillows so that he can look down at me. His eyes sparkle with the hint of a smile, but I can see the worry in the blue depths.

"Him?" He asks, with a smile.

I can't explain it, but something deep in my soul says that the baby I carry is a boy. He'll have golden hair like his father, but share my smoky eyes. I see him too in my nightmares. I see him being chosen in a Reaping not too far off. Twelve years old, the child of two Victors. His face is everywhere, he's the star of the Games. All eyes are on him as he takes up a bow, like his mother, and follows the other lambs to the slaughter. I see his death as well. Just like Rue. I see a net dropping on him unaware and another tribute taking his chance. The spear goes right through his chest and his gray eyes go glossy. That's the future of my son.

But I can't tell Peeta any of this. He'll tell me I'm only dreaming. He'll tell me that there's only a slim chance his name would come out of the bowl at the Reaping. That our child, unlike the many unfortunate of District 12, will never have to sign up for tesserae. But I know how to counter such an argument. Look at what happened to Peeta. The odds weren't in his favor. Were they?

So instead I stuff the fears to the back of my mind and I force myself to smile.

"Mhmm," I tell him. I take his hand and place it on my stomach, covering it with my own. Just then I feel another bump from inside. "Do you feel him?"

Peeta's eyes go wide with wonder. He shifts and lowers himself to plant a lingering kiss on my lips. I savor his touch and the salty taste. I will never have enough time to enjoy him.

My hands slide into his hair, caressing his neck and pulling him closer to me. I feel the heat blossoming inside of me as his hands caress my side and slip under my silk nightshirt to massage my chest. I press myself against him, willing him to make love to me.

"I love you," he breaths as we slip into another sleepless night.

"You look like shit."

"Good morning to you too," I snap at Haymitch as I pile my plate with sausage and pancakes. As always, the Capitol has spared no expense for its Tributes. The Avoxes bring a banquet of food to every meal. This breakfast table alone could feed District 12 for a month. But I try not to think of that as I slather my pancakes with syrup.

Effie isn't as easy to brush off. She gives both Peeta and I her scrutinizing glare down the bridge of her pointed nose as soon as Peeta emerges from my bedroom. He looks just as tired with dark bags under his eyes and his hair a tousled mess. It actually makes me smile.

"Really!" She scolds as Peeta sinks into his chair at the table. "What would your parents think, the two of you carrying on like this? You're not even married yet!"

"Let the kids have a few minutes of happiness," Haymitch tells her. "They're as good as dead."

Effie snorts her disapproval. Usually Haymitch takes her side; but this Hunger Games has him on edge too. I wanted to tell her everything, but we don't know yet whose side she's on. It hasn't been easy since she's always got her nose following us around. My clothes are baggy enough to fit another person inside of them. Thankfully, the Interviews are tonight. Then the jig will be up and the ball will be in Snow's court.

Like it or not, tonight will be the moment of truth. Will Snow send me into the Arena? Will the people revolt? I don't hold much hope at this point.