A/N: edited 02/01/15
Chapter 20: Mindset
Katniss
Despite how late it was when I got back home, Mom, Prim and I ate our brownies in front of the fire, with blankets wrapped around our shoulders. I felt bubbly and warm inside all night, and went to bed with a smile that stretched from one ear to the other. Mom and Prim don't ask about why I am so very happy, but gave me strange looks when I actually offered to do the washing up before bed.
Overall, the entire evening was pretty good. Despite having a yelling match with Mrs Mellark (which was most likely inevitable) I think that I was accepted into the family just a little bit more. I was worried that visiting the home of the father of my child would be painfully awkward. I was concerned that Mr Mellark would drop his old opinion of me – whatever that happened to be – in favour of the same one of his wife. That I am nothing but a Seam rat. Scum. The lowest of low. I should've known that Farrell Mellark, with his kind and gentle demeanour and positive outlook on life, would never do that.
Fen and Rye surprised me too. And not just because of their inventive gifts. I had prepared myself for an evening of sarcastic comments and sly looks across the table. But they seemed alright with the entire situation, and carried on with their evening as if I was part of the family. I even felt comfortable enough to call them out when they did the same to me.
But Peeta was who surprised me the most. In a good way too. My initial fears vanished when I saw him waiting outside for me, his eyes impossibly blue, and his hair gleaming like spun gold. Usually I'm not one for romance. Madge usually comes to school with a new romance novel every week, cooing incessantly as she turns the pages at lunch, and I find it incredible cheesy – the way that the male character always risks his life for his girl, how they go to the ends of the earth to save each other, how their undying love is all they needed to survive.
I'm no damsel in distress, and I don't need a prince to come and rescue me from my tower. I'll find my own way down, thank you very much.
All this time, and I thought it was silly. All this time, I thought that love was something fickle, a weakness of the human race. All this time, and I was almost completely unaware of feelings like this. Feelings that I guess I could call love. Not yet lust, but a love that would make me happy to be with Peeta for the rest of my life. Was that the kind of a love a husband and wife were supposed to share? I'm not sure yet, but its love. It's a good love. A love I can live with.
It felt natural to curl up beside Peeta. I was comfortable in his arms. His eyes, pained as they watched me, made me feel a twisting sadness in every fibre of my being. I could sense that he was wary of boundaries, of what was going too far and what could possibly drive me away. I caught myself by surprise when I took his face in my hands and traced the marks Gale had left behind. The atmosphere changed then, the gesture intimate – something a couple in love would do.
When his eyes closed, my thoughts raced ahead, coming up with the stupid idea that he could be doing it simply as a sign of pleasure or contentment. But he couldn't see me then. He didn't see the soft smile that crept onto my lips as well as his.
Peeta's questions about whether I truly cared about him and the baby and that I wouldn't leave left me high and dry for a moment, and I had to think about whether I did or not. My answer was that I did, and Peeta relaxed at my words. Of course, my lack of connections between my brain and my mouth decided that that was the perfect moment to ask if we were ever to become more. Thankfully, Peeta said that he thought that we could.
I think that was then I began to feel slightly giddy.
Added to the laughter I shared from Fenton and Rye's presents, the warmth of Peeta's hug, the idea of us living together and feeling our baby move for the first time after falling asleep on Peeta's chest, the entire evening provided enough time for the tension between us to build. On the way home, I found myself thinking about Peeta in a different light. Mitch's words from the very start of the games, before any of this happened, spring to mind.
'I can practically cut the tension between you two. Sexual or platonic, I'm yet to decide.'
I wonder if Peeta has told any of his friends yet.
I doubt it.
Sexual or not? Well, Peeta did look good in his outfit, and the blue shirt really brought out his blue eyes. Handing over his hoodie was a kind thing for him to do, and when he pulled it over his head, and his shirt became untucked from his pants and revealed his muscular chest to me, I couldn't help but stare for a few seconds, before stepping forward to pull his shirt back down. I was almost ashamed to admit that I trailed my fingers over his bare skin on purpose. I wanted to ignore the shiver that went through him at my touch but it was there and it happened.
As he told me what was inside the paper bag he was carrying, I watched his lips move, and wondered what it would be like to press mine to his. That thought frightened me. I remember asking myself what was wrong with me, because I didn't know when or why I had started to think like this. Were Madge's romance novels rubbing off on me, two years after she started reading them? Maybe it was pregnancy hormones? Or maybe it was just Peeta. Just Peeta with his stupid laugh and abundance of smiles and endless kindness.
And then, when I thought that the idea of kissing him would be nothing but a stupid thought rattling around in my skull, Peeta kissed me.
Startled for a few seconds, I was left standing there, with Peeta's hands guiding my lips to his. I reacted eventually, and kissed him back, gripping onto his forearms so I could reach, feeling so very small compared to his hulking frame, his mouth. I felt like I was on fire, burning up from the inside out and for once in my life, I didn't mind it.
What would happen if I kissed him?
"Something must have happened... like something really good for you to be smiling like this," Prim comments at breakfast the next day.
We're digging in to the cheese buns Peeta snuck in to the bag, along with bread and the brownies. I've found a new meaning for living – cheese buns. I stand from the kitchen table and wrap one up to eat at lunch before slipping it into my bag.
"Nothing, I just had a good time."
"Yeah, I guessed that much," Prim says. I raise my eyebrows and finally tell the truth.
"I felt the baby."
"What?!" Prim exclaims, her mouth falling open.
"Katniss! Why didn't you tell us?" Mom asks from where she's been watching Prim grill me.
"I don't know. I just didn't." I shrug, immediately feeling guilty.
"What was it like?" she continues, grasping her cup of tea tightly in one hand, a cheese bun in the other.
"Weird. It wasn't like corn popping… or butterflies. It just felt like something was pushing on my stomach. Really light, like a heartbeat."
"And where did you feel the kicking?"
"Uh, about here." I say, stuffing the rest of the cheese bun into my mouth so I can press my hands to my stomach, which is obvious now, even to the least observant person. Mom comes over, her brow creased, as she pokes around at my tummy.
"How long was it for?" Prim pipes up.
"Enough time for Peeta to feel it too," I say. "So about twenty seconds, give or take." I estimate, thinking back to last night.
"Oh, Katniss! How romantic!" Prim gushes. I roll my eyes. Prim could be related to Madge simply by their uncontrollable love of sappy things. "What did Peeta think? He must've been pretty thrilled. What a good birthday surprise."
"He was worried at first. I kind of... babbled. He didn't know what I was talking about."
"Well, I'm glad you finally felt some movement," Mom nods, smoothing down my braid lovingly. "Now, go on to school. You don't want to be late." I smile at my mother and follow Prim into our bedroom. Mom calls to us, telling us to wrap up warm. Prim ties pink ribbons onto the bottoms of her braids and pulls on her coat, hat, scarf and gloves. I'm usually stuck with a thin coat or my hunting jacket and a scarf, and have to put up with freezing hands. But today, I can wear Peeta's jacket. I pull it on under my coat.
"Is that Peeta's?" Prim asks me.
"No, I've always owned a hoodie with 'Mellark' written on the back," I say mockingly. Prim sticks her tongue out at me and walks into the kitchen. I yank on my boots and wrap my scarf around my head, slipping my hands into the pocket of Peeta's hoodie to keep my digits warm. Outside, the air is bitterly cold, the sky pale grey. Beneath my feet, the grass has a layer of sparkling frost dusting it, and the mud that usually collects in sections all over the district has frozen solid.
"I bet it'll properly snow within the week," Prim predicts.
"You want to bet on that?" I ask jokingly, elbowing my sister in the side, causing her to laugh along with me.
We walk to school in a comfortable silence, blowing our breath out in little puffs, watching it condense in the cold air and whirl in the light breeze. I'm at ease for most of the journey, but as the wrought school gates come into view, and the street begins to fill with students heading for First or Second School, I slow my pace significantly.
"You alright, Katniss?" Prim asks.
"People are going to see," I say. "They'll see and assume things. Everybody will be horrible to me."
"Look, it's going to be tough for Peeta too. But he'll help you through it. You've got a whole network of people who will support you. Just ignore any of the idiots." Prim says, stepping forward to grip my arm.
"You don't understand, Little Duck."
"And I'm not going to try to understand," she smiles softly at me. "But you've faced worse than a couple of arrogant classmates, haven't you?"
I refuse to answer, worrying at my bottom lip.
"Haven't you?"
"Yeah, but-"
"Yeah but nothing," my wise-beyond-her years sister says, tugging gently me towards the school by my elbow. "And you can't keep going around in this self-pity circle. You need to break out of it and show everyone else that if you don't care, they shouldn't either."
Prim's right. I can do this. I will do this. No matter what people think, I'm not going to let anyone push me around. "When did you get so smart?" I ask her.
"I've always been smart," she grins. "And it's not like Peeta will abandon you or anything."
"I know," I say quietly. Prim doesn't hear me and squeezes my hand consolingly once we reach the gates, before running off to her usual meeting point with her friends. For a minute, I just stand there at the school gates, unsure of where to go, just staring at the crowds of students milling around in front of the school.
"Katniss!" a voice squeals, and I'm yanked violently to the side by a hand on my wrist.
"Hey – what are you – Madge?!" I exclaim, my eyes wide as the Mayor's daughter drags me over the solid ground, up the school steps and into the corridor.
"Katniss, he's such a romantic!" Madge says, pulling me up the stairs. She's stronger than I thought.
"Madge, slow down for a second will you?" I ask. Madge pauses, her eyes wide, hair wild. "Thank you! Now, would you care to tell me why you've dragged me in here?"
"Look!" Madge says, pointing along the corridor of lockers. I look in the direction of her finger.
"What?"
"On your locker," Madge says, stepping forward. "I came in early to hand in my project, and saw it." Curiosity filling me, I follow my excited friend to my locker, and find, taped to it, an envelope.
"Did you read it?" I ask.
"Of course not," Madge admonishes. "But how romantic is that? Leaving you a note?!" I peel the envelope from the worn painted metal, run my finger under the seal, and pull out a piece of paper. On one side, written in elegant text, is a short message.
'I wanted to test out the pencils :) What do you think?'
I flip the paper over and then I see it.
"Oh," I exhale, running my finger over the drawing on the other side. It's a pair of eyes, my eyes to be exact. Staring back at me, as if I were looking into a mirror. The crease at the corners of my eyes when I smile is there, along with the teeny tiny freckle on the bridge of my nose. You can almost see the reflection in my eyes; the drawing is so clear and precise.
"Peeta drew that, didn't he?" Madge whispers, making me jump. I forgot she was there.
"Yeah."
"Told you he was good."
"But this is like a photograph," I mumble. Madge gently takes the sketch from me and examines it, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinises ever little pencil stroke.
"Are you sure he doesn't have a camera?" She teases, passing the paper back so I can slip it into the envelope to keep it safe. A few minutes later, the bell rings and the corridors floods with students. Madge chats about her latest escapades with Mitch as I swap Friday's books for todays.
"I've finally got a hang of riding horses. Mitch thinks I'll be able to start jumping with them too, which is so exciting," Madge boasts proudly. I nod with as much enthusiasm as I can manage, and it doesn't take long for my friend to realise that something is wrong.
"It's just that... Because I'm thin, the bump sticks out more," I explain after Madge asks me what's up. "I don't want people to be horrible, to me or to Peeta."
"Well, firstly, you aren't going to be able to hide it forever. Secondly, you aren't going to be able to stop people gossiping," Madge says, lifting her glossy tresses from her shoulder to place her bag strap down without snagging her hair. "And Katniss, you aren't thin anymore. You're slim. And honestly? What did you expect? Of course your bump will stick out. That's what happens in pregnancy."
"I know, Madge. I know. But I just don't want all the drama," I sigh, feeling decidedly melancholy.
"You and Peeta are drama," Madge winks. I shake my head and unwrap my scarf and pull off my coat. I'm going to keep Peeta's hoodie on. It's cold in the classrooms, and the smell of my husband-to-be lingers on the soft material, making me feel like I'm permanently being hugged by Peeta. The Mellark written on the back is dead giveaway that something is up. "Valerie is going to kill you." Madge announces as I shut my locker door.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"He gave you his wrestling hoodie! That's like a code! Only girlfriends wear the sports clothing of their boyfriends."
"Technically we're bride and groom to be." I interject quietly.
"But wearing his clothes is like going public, Katniss. Valerie has been trying to snatch one of his hoodies for the past year now! Questions are going to be asked."
"But it's so warm," I say detachedly. "Do you think I should take it off?"
"Maybe. I mean, perhaps people won't react like your current 'situation' isn't such a scandal if you start displaying your relationship slowly. Ease everyone into it."
"Scandal?" I ask, eyebrows raised.
"Well, it kind of is," Madge says sheepishly. I nudge her in the ribs.
"So, you ready to cause chaos?" I ask, trying to keep positive. Peeta will be there. Peeta won't let me down. I chant over and over in my head as we set off down the corridor. I tug the sleeves of the jacket over my hands and rest my books against my stomach in an effort to conceal my pregnancy.
"Oh, I see. Now you're wearing his shit?" A familiar voice calls from over the heads of the majority of the student body. I whirl around.
Gale. Back in school again on his day off.
"What do you want?" I ask. I can feel Madge's questioning gaze fixed on me as I address my friend. Gale walks closer, the crowd parting to let him through.
We haven't seen each other for a couple of days, and I haven't seen the full extent of Gale's injuries due to Peeta. Obviously, he's less hurt that Peeta because he didn't retaliate for quite some time. However, he does have a bruised nose and jaw, from where Peeta's fist made contact with his face.
"It's like he's branded you," Gale continues, his eyes narrowed as he walks backwards, away from me, his eyes burning like fire. "Possessions are usually branded, Catnip."
"He gave me my hoodie as a gift," I snap, glaring at him. Madge's eyes flicker up to Gale, waiting for his response. He stops moving away and squares up to me. I roll my eyes. Is puffing his chest up really necessary? I'm at least a foot shorter than him!
"Charming. What's next? His old socks?"
"Very funny."
"Tell Dough Boy that he should watch his back," Gale threatens, looming over Madge and I in a brooding fashion.
"Like you have the balls."
"Not long now! Pretty soon there'll be loads of cute little blonde kids running around you. How ironic after everything you promised to me," Gale whispers, ignoring my retort and leaning close to my face.
"I promised you nothing!" I hiss. Madge rolls her eyes from beside me.
"Back off, Gale."
"Like you can talk, Undersee. Heard Jones took you down to the Slag Heap over the weekend," At this I shoot Madge a questioning glance and she narrows her eyes.
"And what were you doing there?" Madge fires back. I feel about two inches tall, and wish that the ground would just open up and swallow me whole. Gale gives Madge a suspicious look and stands back to his full height. He wasn't expecting to be called out by the Mayor's daughter. Or that she would be so feisty.
"So, have fun living the Merchant life, Catnip. Just remember that there are many forms of protection around that could be of use," he taunts. I lock my jaw and bring my hand round to slap my friend, hard. The noise ricochets around the corridor. He stares at me in surprise. I've hit him before, plenty of times, but never so hard or in such a public setting.
"I'd have you know that I have some, thank you very much," I snarl, just loud enough for him to hear. This information combined with my slap shocks him so much that Madge and I can sweep past without another word from him.
"Katniss!" Madge hisses. "What do you mean, you 'have some'?"
"Madge, I'm joking. Do you really think I would be in this situation if I did?" I lie. Madge begins to laugh in realisation. I smile along with her, trying not to think about the box condoms Rye bought Peeta.
Halfway through my third lesson, and I've already been designated first place as the subject of today's gossip. True to Madge's prediction, Valerie shoots razor sharp daggers at me as I make my way to my seat, and glares continuously throughout the first twenty minutes of the class.
Although I haven't been asked directly about my wearing of Peeta's hoodie, or the reasoning behind Gale and mine's blow up in the corridor, I've been able to listen in to the words of Kaytee Crick and Scarlet Mack's conversation, that's teamed with snide remarks and glances my way. Madge remains by my side though, distracting me from everyone else's whispering.
At break, I sit on a low wall in the schoolyard, watching as people run past, spotting all the people who are whispering about me.
"Prince Charming at one o'clock," Madge says, nudging me in the side. I look up from the cheese bun I packed into my bag this morning and see Peeta jogging towards me.
"Hey!" I greet him, my cheerily than I ever would've before.
"Hi," he says back. Madge looks a way, pretending not to eavesdrop. "How would you like to skip school today?" Peeta asks, smiling shyly at me.
"Skip school?" I ask. "Are you encouraging it?"
"Well, yeah," Peeta grins, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "We've only got Coal Sciences and Maths left over. I don't see why not."
He shoots me a shy smile, rubbing the back of his neck. I bite my lip. Damn. He looks adorable.
Madge shoots me a look, trying to figure out if I'm going to leave or not. I relent under Peeta's gaze. "Alright, but if I get teachers breathing down my neck for skiving, I'll blame you." I inform him.
"I'll take that chance. I'll go get my stuff and then we can sneak out."
"Okay." I nod. Peeta grins and turns away.
"Oh, and by the way, Madge?" he asks, stopping in his tracks.
"Yeah?" Madge asks, perking up at the mention of her name.
"Mitch won't shut up about you."
Madge squeals beside me after Peeta runs off. "Mitch is such a cutie!" She sighs. "And you and Peeta, huh? Sneaking off?"
"It's not what you think. We aren't like that."
"Sure," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Why? Don't you believe me?"
Madge says nothing in return but laughs. I remain silent, the little voice in my head reminding me of the kiss Peeta and I shared last night. It was perfect. The feeling of his lips against mine still makes my stomach twist, and in a good way. Why does he want to skip school? My mind goes mad trying to think up a plausible conclusion.
I guess the only way to find out is to trust him.
Peeta
After checking to make sure no teachers are lurking, Katniss and I duck out of the school gates and hurry down the quiet street, only slowing our pace when we round the corner. And even then, we're silent. I lead the way back to my house with Katniss' hand in mine, pulling her gently along the cobbled road.
"What about your parents?" she asks.
"My Dad is visiting his brother across town, and Mom is passed out in her room," I say, feeling ashamed to talk about my mother's alcohol problem. She didn't come down stairs until early this morning, and even then she refused to talk to any of us, simply grabbing a new bottle from the cellar and climbing the stairs again. I don't know if I was relieved or not.
Katniss nods and I reach into my shirt to pull out the key hung on a chain around my neck, unlock the door and beckon her inside.
"I didn't expect to be back here so soon," she says, emitting a soft chuckle from me as we step into the kitchen. I grab some of the leftover chocolate cupcakes Dad made yesterday as we pass the ovens.
"Me neither," I reply. We creep up the stairs, and I wince as the wooden steps creak beneath out feet. Even drunk, Mom has sharp senses. The last thing I want is her finding Katniss here.
I cringe when I push open the door to my bedroom, the mess inside embarrassing. Various items of clothing are spread over the floor, sketches are strewn on my bed and desk, and the window is wide open, causing the room to be freezing cold.
"Why's the window open?" Katniss asks, rubbing her arms.
"Uh, I prefer to have the window open. Helps me sleep," I shrug, tripping over a shoe as I go to shut the window.
"So why do you keep it open in the day?"
"Habit?" I offer. Katniss smiles. I blush and begin to pick up my clothes and dump them in the wash basket in the hallway. I slip my drawings into the notepad Dad gave me and straighten the duvet. "Uh… sit. Please." I say, motioning to the bed. Katniss sits, sucking her cheeks in as she gazes around my room.
"You can see everything way better in the daylight," she says, letting out a snort after realising the implications of what she's just said, her cheeks reddening.
I rub the back of my neck. "And when you're sober."
"That also," she laughs. "Thanks, by the way. For the drawing."
"You're welcome."
"Madge told me how good you were, but that was almost like a photograph," she pushes a strand of hair from her face, and behind her ear. "How did you learn to draw so well?"
"I just… picked it up I guess," I say. "When I was little, before Mom got… bad, she would let me finger paint on the wall outside. And Dad thought I was really good, and got me wax crayons and stuff. It went from there." I say, remembering the day Dad found out that I'd been doodling all over my schoolbooks.
'Peeta? What are you drawing on?' Daddy asks as he comes into the kitchen. I look up and attempt to hide the brightly coloured sketches I've drawn in between the margins of the notebook. He's told me again and again to stop it, because old Mrs Green stopped him when he came to pick me up and told him that although my creativity was good, it wasn't as good when it was all over my homework.
'You aren't doing it again, are you?' he asks gently, placing the trays in his arms onto the countertop. He's very strong to be holding all those heavy trays. I hope that one day I'll be as strong as my Daddy is.
'It was only a tiny bit,' I mumble, twirling the too-orange crayon between my fingers.
'Peety, come on. You know that you shouldn't do that,' Daddy scolds. 'Why don't you use one of your notepads instead?'
'I did, but Mama thought it was silly and ripped it up,' I reply, looking up at the door leading to the shop front as if Mama is going to show up any second and scold me, or even worse, hit me again. Daddy's face goes sad and he places a hand on my shoulder.
'Why didn't you tell me?'
'Mommy said I couldn't.' I look down at the papers spread in front of me.
'I'll get you a new pad, son,' he promises. He looks through my schoolbook. 'These are pretty darn good!'
'Not really. Not as good as the ones in the schoolbooks.'
'Oh, Peeta,' Daddy chuckles, rubbing his hand over his jaw. 'They're rubbish. I think you're a much better drawer than anyone in Panem.'
'Really?'
'Definitely. Now, how about you finish your homework – without doodling – and then you can come with me and choose a new notepad to use,' Daddy says, taking the crayon from me and replacing it with a pencil.
I realise that I've been lost in my own thoughts for a while, and my eyes come back into focus to find Katniss smiling at me. "You okay?" She asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I say. Katniss crosses her legs and looks down.
"So… Why did you convince me to skip school?"
"Oh. Yeah."
"Yeah." Katniss grins, finding my awkwardness amusing.
"To be fair, you didn't need much convincing." Katniss backhands my arm.
"Alright, Baker Boy, alright."
"I was talking with my Dad this morning, about us two getting a house, and he said that under special circumstances, a couple moving into a house before they are married is sometimes allowed," I say nervously. Katniss pauses, picking at the blanket beneath her. "Is this too sudden?" I ask.
"No, no. Not at all. I just didn't expect it."
"Oh."
"Special circumstances?" she asks, her lips curving up into a smirk. I nod. "Is unplanned pregnancy included?"
"Apparently so."
She frowns, her brow knitting together. "But don't both sides of the couple have to be seventeen?"
"With parental permission, you can move into a house aged sixteen."
"So basically, if you get pregnant, you can have your own house?"
"Yeah…"
"Seems like a pretty easy way of getting around the system, don't you think?"
"I don't see any of my class mates having a baby, do you?" I ask, my words coming out harsher than I intended. Katniss bites her lip and looks down. "I didn't mean it like that." I apologise.
"No, I know exactly what you mean," Katniss sniffs. "This wasn't what I had planned. I don't actually know what I thought I was planning in the first place, but ending up pregnant and engaged to the one and only Peeta Mellark wasn't at the top of the list," A single tear falls slowly down her cheek, and she roughly wipes it away with the back of her hand before I can do it for her. "I don't know what's happening to me. Why am I even crying?"
"It's okay to cry," I say, moving forward and pulling her towards me, rubbing her back soothingly.
"I'm soaking your shirt."
"I've made you cry in under five minutes," I reply, earning a choked laugh.
"I want to move in with you, Peeta. I think it will be good for us, and the baby."
"Are you sure?"
"I am now."
"Dad said that we could possibly find a house in the next few days, and move all our stuff in during the weekend, before Christmas."
"Before Christmas?" Katniss asks, pulling away.
"It can be New Year, if you want," I stumble over my words.
"Wow. Everything seems to be happening at once."
"I know exactly how you feel." I say. Katniss takes a deep shuddering breath.
"Oh, God." She whispers, her grey eyes suddenly widening. "How am I going to be able to afford everything?! A baby needs a crib and bottles and diapers and toys and clothes and blankets. And what about furnishing the house? And –"
"And I'm going to help as well. Of course I will. It'll my house as well, after all," I reassure her. "We'll sit on the floor if it comes to it," I offer her a smile. "We'll be able to buy everything, but not all at once."
"With what?" Katniss exclaims. I shush her, praying that Mom is too deep in alcohol to hear us. "I have barely enough money to keep my own house from falling down," she continues, lowering her voice just a little. "And, no offence, but I doubt that you have enough money from working at the bakery to buy all this."
"No offence taken."
"Peeta! This is serious."
"I know it is. I'm serious too. I'll get another job."
"Where?"
"I don't know," I admit. Katniss looks down at her stomach and rubs it thoughtfully. "Somewhere."
"I just don't want it to be like me. Cold and closed off because I had to grow up so fast. I don't want it to be so hungry that it has to sell furniture to get some coins." She says, struggling to fight the wobble in her voice.
"And they won't have to because he or she is going to have you as a mother, and you are fiercely protective of the people you love," I say sincerely. Katniss smiles softly, her cheeks darkening slightly.
"You're going to be the father."
"Well that's news to me," I joke. Katniss shoves my shoulder and I fall back onto the bed. Katniss leans over me, narrowing her eyes playfully.
"You know what I mean! You're going to be a great Dad. I know you will."
"I feel honoured," I grin. Katniss smiles back at me, her braid falling from her shoulder and almost whacking me in the face.
"Sorry," she laughs, and I tug on the end of her braid. "You're gonna be a good husband, Peeta Mellark."
"And you're gonna be a beautiful, brilliant wife, Katniss Everdeen." I reply. Katniss sticks the tip of her tongue out and wets her lips, hesitating before leaning down and pressing her lips to mine. The kiss is brief, sweet and closed mouthed, but my brain goes into overdrive. Katniss pulls away and smiles timidly at me, before resting her head on my chest.
"Beautiful?" she asks. I nod in response. She lets out a bark of a laugh. "Just wait until you see my hair in the morning. I think you'll change your mind then."
"Never," I tell her. "I already love your morning hair."