A/N: edited 02/01/15

Chapter 19: Class Act

Peeta

Katniss. Brilliant, beautiful Katniss. I knew that Mom was gonna blow up, as much as I prayed that she would stay polite for just one evening. Although I knew that Katniss would never let someone put her down, I hadn't expected her reaction.

She full-blown yelled at Mom. And Mom (after getting over the initial shock of someone yelling back) shouted back at her.

That was the Katniss I knew. That was the Katniss I had fallen in love with. Independent and strong-minded. But what surprised me was how she reacted after Mom stormed out of the room and upstairs. She burst into tears, and the first thing she did was fall into my arms. She wanted me to comfort her. All this time I've been anxious about how our relationship was progressing. The little voice inside my head has been nagging at me for months, telling me not to ever get my hopes up.

Katniss is only marrying you for the idea of having a house and income.

Katniss doesn't love you! She just wants a way out!

I have to ignore the voice. It sounds a lot like Mom.

We migrate into the living room, and I sit down on the two-seater couch. Katniss sits beside me, leaning against me, her hand on her steadily growing stomach.

"Rye!" Dad calls from the kitchen. "Come back in here and help Fen and I tidy up!" Rye groans dramatically from the hallway and stomps back into the kitchen, leaving Katniss and I alone in front of the crackling fire. I wiggle my toes, feeling the heat radiate towards me.

"Peeta?" Katniss asks timidly, breaking the comfortable silence we've fallen into.

"Yeah?" I say, looking down at her.

"I'm sorry for yelling. This is your birthday, and I'm the guest. I shouldn't have argued with your Mom. All I've done is embarrass myself," her grey eyes are swimming, as if she's about to cry again. My heart breaks.

"Hey, don't be upset. I'm kind of glad you yelled. Mom normally just rants and no-one says anything."

"But it was a stupid thing to do."

"Maybe, but everyone does stupid things sometimes."

"Your Dad isn't mad, is he?"

"He was trying not to grin. He isn't mad." I chuckle. Katniss lets out a short laugh, but it fades quickly.

Caught in my throat, the words I want to say come out as a heavy sigh. "What is it?" Katniss asks me, looking up at me in concern.

"Nothing."

"It's something," Katniss whispers. I stay silent. "Come on, Peeta," she encourages, squeezing my bicep lightly with her hand. I can't ignore the fire that shoots up my arm from where her skin is touching mine. It's so much better than Valerie's claws digging into my skin. "You can tell me."

I stare at the wall opposite, the pale paint melting in and out of focus the longer I stare at it. Katniss is right. I can tell her. I should tell her. So why do I feel so anxious? Surely I should feel free to express my feelings with her, let her into my head, let her know my worries and thoughts and plans for the future.

"How's the baby?" I start. Katniss snorts. "What?" I ask, confounded.

"That's what you wanted to ask me? Peeta, I don't mind you asking. It's not a taboo subject or anything."

"Well?" I prompt. Katniss' features soften and she looks down at her stomach.

"It's fine. A pain in the ass, but all is well." She says quietly.

"Pain in the ass?" I ask. Katniss rolls her eyes.

"I can't lie comfortably on my stomach anymore. Or curl up real small," she sighs. "And Mom has to keep letting out loads of my clothes. I'm getting too fat to wear all my old stuff, and pretty soon... Possibly tomorrow and onwards, people are gonna be seeing my belly and I won't be able to do anything about their reactions."

"And I'm sure you'll just flip them off or something." I tease.

A smile flickers over her face, but she stares resolutely at the fire. "I know... But I don't know how I'm going to react. People are going to be so horrible."

"I'll protect you." I offer. Katniss' shoulder droop.

"And you'll just get hurt. I don't want you to get hurt Peeta. Gale is pissed as hell."

"You've spoken to him?"

"Not yet."

"Don't let him yell at you. Please." I say, my tone quiet but intense. For a minute, I fear that I've freaked her out, but then she shifts in position and curls her legs beneath her so she's leaning more against the back of the couch and facing me. Carefully, she moves her hand and cups my face, her touch gentle. I watch her, and she traces my swollen lip, the cuts under my left eye and over my jaw that are beginning to scab over, and lastly, she traces her thumb beneath my black eye, her lips turned down at the corners. It's an intimate gesture, something I would never picture Katniss doing.

"Look what I've done to you," she murmurs. I close my eyes in frustration.

"You didn't do this." I tell her.

"Yeah I did."

"Katniss," I say, opening my eyes and taking her hands. "You haven't done anything. This is my own fault. I'm the one who can't handle alcohol."

"I'm just as bad as you are," she mumbles. "We're gonna be great parents and fantastic role models." At this I chuckle and Katniss sits back down on the sofa, resting her head on my shoulder.

"Did you really mean what you said?"

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific."

"That you care about me. And the baby. That you aren't going to leave," Katniss stiffens, her grip on my hand tightening. "Or were you just saying that?"

"I mean it. Leaving you is the last thing I'm going to do. And I do care about you and the baby," she looks up at me, her smile shy.

"Okay. I care too."

"Do you think we'll ever be more?" Katniss blurts out. She claps her hand over her mouth the second she says it. My heart skips a beat.

This is what I wanted to ask her.

And she beat me to it.

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to think logically. She may not mean what I think she means.

"Relationship wise," Katniss continues quietly, as if she can't believe she's saying it. My pulse spikes. "Do you think we'll ever be more than what we are now? Do you ever think that we'll become...You know...more?"

"I'd like to know what we've got at the moment, first."

"We're friends, that's for sure."

"I suppose that's a good starting point."

"But close friends."

I smirk. "Really close friends." She blushes, a smile playing at her lips.

"But do you think we'll become more?"

"Maybe. I don't know. It would be nice to be more. I guess we should just take it slow, and see where things take us," I suggest, choosing my words carefully.

"Alright," Katniss says, seemingly content.

Dad, Fen and Rye enter the room a few minutes later. Dad catches my eye, smiling at Katniss, who's curled up beside me. Fen and Rye sit down on the floor, pulling out their individual gifts for me. Dad takes to his normal position in his over-stuffed brown leather armchair. Mom has decided not to join us, citing a headache.

"Happy Birthday, Peet," Dad tells me, handing me a rectangular present wrapped in the same paper he uses to wrap up cheese buns. I take it and begin to unwrap it, revealing a brand new sketchbook.

"Thanks Dad," I say, flipping through, the crisp blank pages just waiting to be filled.

"I knew you needed a new one, so there you have it," Dad shrugs, clasping his hands over his stomach.

"I'm next!" Fen says, tossing me a badly wrapped gift. Inside is a blue apron. I thank him, suspicious. Why would he buy me an apron? We practically live in them and I'm not going to run out any time soon. Rye cackles and Dad sighs.

"What?" I say, turning the apron around. And then I see it. Katniss collapses into a fit of laughter. Printed right in the middle, in bold white letters, are nine words:

Peeta Mellark: Making babies since the age of sixteen

"Fen!" I admonish, looking at my brother in disbelief, a wide grin spreading over my face.

"You're welcome, little brother."

"Jesus," Katniss gasps, wiping tears from her cheeks. I nudge her and she presses her lips together, trying not to laugh.

"If you loved that, you're going to love my present!" Rye exclaims, clutching at his stomach. Fen glances down his brother and snorts. Rye shakes his head, his eyes bright and mischievous.

"Here you go Peet. Enjoy," my brother says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small perfectly square box, wrapped in a piece of newspaper. The whole room is tense as I find the edge of the paper to unwrap my gift. I've just seen the top of what's inside when I bring my hand up to cover my eyes.

"Seriously Rye?" I ask. Rye cries out, laughing like a hyena on the floor, clapping his hands together.

"What is it?" Katniss sits upright, craning her neck to see the package. My cheeks turn red-hot and I sigh heavily.

"It's a box of condoms." I say with resignation.

"Rye!" Dad groans. I look at Katniss, who is covering her mouth with of her hands, little bursts of air coming out of her nose as she desperately tries to curb her hysterical laughter. Thank God she's got a good sense of humour, or this would've been very awkward.

Rye looks very pleased with himself. "Thought they'd be put to use. Shame I didn't think of giving them to you sooner."

"Where do even get stuff like that?" Dad asks, his brow furrowing. He's right to be concerned. It's notoriously hard to find contraception in District 12, which is why there are so many surprise pregnancies. Katniss and I are a prime example.

"Peacekeepers. Trust me. I have my contacts."

"Katniss, I'm sorry about their behaviour," Dad says. Katniss shakes her head.

"No, don't worry. I think this is funny too!" she laughs. Rye gives me a pointed look. I put the box of condoms beside my other presents, hiding it from view with the apron.

"Thank you, Dad especially." I conclude.

"Wait, I have a present for you." Katniss says, rummaging in her pocket.

"Katniss, you didn't have to." I say, shaking my head.

"Yeah I did. Stop moaning," she dismisses, handing me a small rectangle, wrapped in brown paper and string. I pull the string off and slide the paper away. A tin. "Open it." Katniss prompts. I swing the lid open and my eyes widen.

"Katniss…" I say, looking in awe at the rainbow of coloured pencils.

"I knew that you didn't have any pencils anymore, and thought that you deserved a new set," Katniss smiles. "Besides. It goes perfectly with your new sketchbook."

"This is too much." I shake my head. This must have cost her a fortune. Even in a place like the Hob, this is a rare and beautiful item.

"No it isn't."

"It really is." Katniss raises an eyebrow, challenging me.

"Dude, just accept it already." Fen says.

"Thank you." I breathe, closing the tin and wrapping my arms around Katniss.

"You're welcome," she mumbles into my shoulder, her arms winding around my waist. Rye, helpful as always, wolf-whistles.

As the evening progresses, and it grows even darker and colder outside, a comfortable atmosphere fills the room. Fen and Rye play cards with Dad, while I sit with Katniss. She's quiet, watching the game and laughing sporadically when someone messes up.

I touch her arm. "Penny for your thoughts."

"They aren't worth that much."

"To me they're worth all the gold in Panem," I say quietly, and she smiles.

"I'm just thinking about what your Mom said," she admits, yawning halfway through her sentence.

"Don't listen to her Katniss. She doesn't know what you've been through."

"I'm not talking about those bits. I'm thinking about the bit about us two getting a house together."

"And what do you think?" I ask carefully.

"I don't know. Do you want to do it?"

I mull it over and Katniss waits patiently for my reply, bathed in the light of the fire. "It would make it easier when the baby arrives, and people wouldn't be as cruel. They'd think that we got married, got a house and then had a baby," I eventually say. Katniss sighs.

"But would you want to live in a house with me?"

I blink. Of course I want to live with Katniss. There's no doubt about that. But that would mean more responsibility. More pressure. We'd have to start providing for each other even more. With each marriage, the Justice Building assigns a new home for each couple. Seam stay in the Seam, and Merchants stay in the Merchant Quarters. But a marriage between both sides is rare, and I haven't ever seen it in my lifetime. How will they decide where to put us? I can only hope that we're located into the Merchant side of the district. Not only will it be more secure, but it'll also be warmer. Those Seam houses are no good for a baby. It's a miracle that any children in the Seam survive their first few years.

"What do I think?" I ask. Katniss nods, biting at her thumb. "I think that it's a good idea."

"Mom and Prim will be alone."

"No they won't. You can visit them. It's not like we'd be moving across Panem," I say gently.

"I'll feel bad- having a nice house when they have to live in the Seam," I pause, waiting for her to continue. "I need to fix the roof before it snows even more. And get them some more dry wood." I can feel her getting more and more het up the more she over thinks things, her entire body tensing.

"Hey, we can give them coal. And food. Christmas can be at ours. Don't worry."

"Don't we need to be married to get a house?"

"I'm sure we can pull some strings," I say. Katniss nods, and I lay my arm over her shoulders. She lies down, resting her head on my chest and closing her eyes. She falls asleep pretty quickly, and I watch her sleep with a smile on my face. In her sleep she looks so peaceful, her eyelashes fluttering, her scowl disappearing. I hook lock of hair behind her ear, the rest of her hair spilling out around her.

For the next hour or so, Katniss stays lying on the couch, perfectly still, perfectly beautiful. Fen and Rye begin to argue about who won the game, and Dad nudges them with his foot, motioning them to be quiet. And then, just as Fen and Rye start to murmur insults at each other from each end of the coffee table, Katniss jolts awake, a surprised gasp escaping from her lips.

"Are you alright?" I ask her, my eyes wide. Fen and Rye turn their head, Dad looks up sleepily from his armchair.

"I felt something…" she murmurs, pushing herself upright and pressing her hands to her stomach.

"Like what?" I ask worriedly. "Do you need your mother?"

"No, not that kind of feeling," she shakes her head, looking down at her belly. "There!" she says in a hushed voice, her eyes widening.

"Katniss?" I ask worriedly.

"Give me your hand!" I exchange glances with my Dad and reach out my hand hesitantly. Katniss grabs it and places it on her stomach eagerly. "I was worried," she gushes, moving my hand around. "I didn't know why I hadn't felt anything even though by now you normally can. Mom said it would be like corn popping or butterflies, but it's nothing like that," she babbles, her cheeks flushed.

"Look, I have no idea what you're talking about, Katniss. Can you please-" my words trail off into stunned silence when something nudges gently at my palm. "What was that?" I ask.

"What do you think?" Katniss asks, slightly sarcastically.

"Is it...?" I ask. Katniss nods. I bring my other hand over to her stomach and bite my lip, feeling the baby, our baby, moving. And it's amazing. I stare at my hands in wonder.

"Ugh. Too much lovey-dovey shit." Rye grunts, standing up and retreating upstairs. Fen follows.

"Congratulations, both of you," Dad smiles, standing up from his chair, stretching his legs and heading for the door, knowing when to leave the room just like his sons. "It was lovely seeing you Katniss." he says. Katniss smiles at me, barely acknowledging my father.

"It is," she says softly in reply to my question. I move around, kneeling on the hard living room floor and waiting to feel any more movement, disappointed when all is still again.

"Wow." I exhale.

"I know," Katniss grins. She looks up at the clock hung above the fireplace. "Hey, you're officially seventeen now. What a good way to welcome your turning seventeen."

"Definitely." I agree enthusiastically.

"It's late, Mom will get worried if I stay out too late," Katniss says reluctantly a few minutes later.

"You fell asleep, so I think getting you home is a good idea," I say, standing, brushing off my pants and taking Katniss' hand.

She cringes at being reminded. "I can't believe I yelled at your Mom and fell asleep."

"I can't believe Rye bought me condoms, for fuck sake," I say. Katniss blushes as we walk into the kitchen.

"It's better to safe than sorry," she laughs. "How ironic. But you have to promise me that you'll wear that apron."

"Of course I will," I pledge. "Let me get my coat and then we can get going."

I disappear into the bakery front and pull my coat from the hook. Katniss still looks thin. And it's going to be freezing in her house. Quietly as I can, I slide a few loaves of bread, three brownies and some cheese buns into a paper bag, folding over the top. Katniss is waiting for me in the kitchen and I lay my coat and the bag on the table, before yanking off my hoodie. My shirt decides to stick to my hoodie and I stand there, my arms in the air and Katniss laughs softly, before stepping forward to yank my shirt back down, her fingers brushing against my bare chest.

"Thanks." I grin.

"Why are you taking it off in the first place?" Katniss queries.

"I want you to have it. I've got another, and I think you need it more than I do."

"No, Peeta. I can't take your jacket from you."

"Think of it as an early Christmas present," I say, handing it to her and refusing to take it back. She pulls it over her head with a scowl.

"It doesn't even fit me," she says, stretching out her arms. Just like when she wore my coat on the way here, her hands disappear into the sleeves, and the hem of the jacket reaches the middle of her thighs. "It's perfect."

"It says 'Mellark' on the back," I warn, thinking of the connotations of wearing another man's clothes will be.

"That's okay." Katniss shrugs, and we step out into the night. Outside, it's gotten impossibly colder. Although it is no longer snowing, the air is bitterly cold, biting at my skin. I shiver and pull my coat tighter about me, hooking my arm through Katniss' to keep her anchored to my side. We're quiet the entire walk, but when we reach her road, Katniss speaks up.

"What's in the bag?"

"Just some left over cake." I shrug.

"For Prim?"

"For all of you."

"Peeta…"

"Dad insisted," I lie. "Said you needed 'fattening up'."

"Sounds like he's going cook us on a spit," Katniss remarks, climbing up the porch steps of her home, her hands in the pocket of my hoodie, her nose and ears pink from the cold, her hair fluttering in the winter wind, her shoulders hunched up to her ears. She looks adorable, my hoodie swamping her slender frame.

"I'd fight him off," I wink. Katniss smiles. I hand her the bag, which she takes, gripping it tightly.

"Thank you for inviting me, Peeta."

"Thank you for the present, and for putting up with my family," I return the gratitude.

"Happy Birthday," she adds, thinking for a moment before climbing back down the porch steps and giving me a hug. I rest my chin on the top of her head. I gulp. I would forever hate myself if I didn't at least try. I pull away, gazing at Katniss. She frowns "What?"

I lean down, cup her face in my hands and press my lips to hers.

For a second of two, Katniss doesn't react, and just stands there. But then – much to my relief – she kisses me back, her hands gripping my forearms as she stands on her tiptoes to reach me.

"Sorry," I apologise, pulling away, slightly out of breath.

"I didn't mind," she blushes, biting her lip.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she nods, retreating backwards, the bag tucked under her arm. My heart hammers in my chest, and I can't help the grin that stretches from ear to ear that appears on my face.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I call hopefully.

"Bye Peeta." Katniss grins, giving me a little wave as she shuts the door. I stand there and fight the urge to punch the air with my fist.

Best.

Birthday.

Ever.