If my goal was to stop crying after I saw Gale, I was madly disappointed. As soon as I closed his room door again, the faucet on my eyes turned back up to full blast. I tried to quiet myself down so as just in case Peeta fell asleep while I was gone, I wouldn't wake him. I stood outside my bedroom door, taking deep breaths until I stopped hiccupping.
In my room, Peeta was fast asleep. Even in the dark, I could see the dark circles under his eyes. I knew they were because of me. Unless it is in the middle of the night, Peeta doesn't sleep while I do, just stays awake, watching me snore. It might be out of habit. In the arena, we did that every night and we lived because of it. Or it might be just because he is just really sweet and doesn't want to leave me while I'm sleeping.
I walked over and gingerly sat on the bed next to him. He looked so peaceful and a year or two younger when he slept. My exhaustion was fighting the urge to stay up all night long, watching over Peeta as he slept, like he does with me.
One of Peeta's cheek muscles twitched. I didn't know if he was awake and knew I was watching him or if he was just dreaming. Just in case he wasn't asleep, I bent over Peeta's dark shape and kissed him softly on the lips. Okay, I have to admit it was for my benefit, as well.
In the morning, I woke quite suddenly from a peaceful sleep. My stomach was rolling and gurgling painfully. I felt as if I was going to lose all of my intestines if I opened my mouth. Peeta was lying parallel to me in the same position he fell asleep in last night. For a moment, I forgot all about my upset stomach and just gazed at him peacefully. That was a mistake.
The blanket I was under got tugged down to the floor as I launched myself out of bed and into the bathroom, accidentally awakening Peeta. I didn't hear him mumble my name through the closed bathroom door. I even forgot to be embarrassed as I retched into the toilet.
Suddenly, I felt gentle hands holding my hair away and stroking my back.
"Go away, Peeta. You don't want to see this; it's disgusting." I groaned, noisily shutting the toilet lid. Peeta just shook his head at me and continued holding my hair.
:Seriously, Peeta. My eyes were squinched shut the whole time and I'm disgusted." I dragged myself up to the sink and splashed my face off with water.
"I've seen worse." Is all Peeta said. He got up, too, flushing the toilet on his way. "And besides, I'm your husband and I get to do stuff like this."
I blinked. What he said was very true, I just hadn't thought about it at all since it happened. The thought made me smile.
"Am I forgiven?" Peeta asked quietly in my ear.
I shrugged. "There isn't really anything to be forgiven about. You seemed to enjoy watching you puke in the toilet so be my guest." As I rambled, I searched in my wardrobe for something to wear.
Peeta was following me. "You're sick. It's a perfectly natural thing to be sick. I have seen so much worse than someone puking. I have seen you lying half-naked in a pool of blood before. I've seen you in your underwear before," Okay, now he was just embarrassing me. "I have been naked barely a foot away from you and you are saying that comforting you while you're sick is gross?" He shook his head, as if I were the insane one.
He had a big point, there. We have been through a lot together, and for Pete's sake we are married. I shouldn't be embarrassed about undressing in front of him, nevertheless barfing in front of him. Although the thought of undressing in front of him made my cheeks turn red.
"Katniss?"I must have had a funny face on, because Peeta looked concerned, and a bit amused.
I snapped out of it. "Sorry. You're right. Um…" My head was feeling fuzzy as I dug around the shelves in my wardrobe. I wanted to change clothes because the ones I am wearing right now were itchy and the seams on my shirt were about to burst. "Dang…"
Peeta's brows furrowed. "What?"
"Hold on." I grabbed an armful of clothes and stopped into the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, I stomped back out of the bathroom in my undershirt and panties, and I threw down the clothes I was holding."Stupid clothes!"
"Um…Katniss?" Peeta shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Why?"
"All of my friggin' clothes don't fit me anymore! This undershirt is the only thing that fits over my stomach because it is stretchy cotton!" I crossed my arms angrily. Yes, it was childish, but I had a reason to be upset and moody.
"Hmm…" Peeta peered into he opened shelves that were mostly empty except for a messy array of nightclothes. He pulled out a loose white night gown and tossed it to me. "Put this on. I'll be right back."
As quickly as I could, I tugged the gown on and stopped Peeta at the door. "Where are you going? I want to come."
Peeta opened the door and casually walked through with me following closely behind. "Your mothers' room. She sews, right?"
"Yes…" I could see where he was going with this. My mother might be able to sew me some new clothes that would fit over my swollen belly.
When we got to her room, Peeta knocked on the door politely. The door swung open and my mother smiled when she saw us. "Katniss, dear! And Peeta. How are you two getting along?"
I opened my mouth to talk, but realized Peeta had, too, but he snapped it shut and motioned for me to talk.
"Sorry," I quickly apologized to him. "Mother, I'm having a bit of a… clothes issue."
My mother nodded.
"Well, if I bring you some new material, can you make me some clothes that would… you know…" I gestured at my stomach. "fit better."
"Of course! I'm a bit rusty, but I'm sure I can catch up fast." Then mother unexpectedly reached out and hugged me tightly.
Just as she closed the door, me and Peeta heard her say, "She's growing up so fast…"
Once the door closed, I sighed. "Mothers."
Peeta laughed. "You mean your mother."
"You're right. No other human being could possibly that weird." Me and Peeta walked back into our room.
"It's not weird…" he said, slightly indignantly.
Just then, I remembered Peeta's abusive mother. I think Peeta meant that my mother wasn't weird, but she just loved me and it was a big improvement from his mother. "I'm sorry." I said quietly.
"Sorry for what?"
I felt guilty for being inconsiderate. "Mm… nothing."