Exhausted I let myself fall back on the bed, my head hitting the soft, downy pillow. It's over. Finally. It felt like we would never get to this point, but we did.

We've been up all night watching the finale of the 76th Hunger Games, where Quintus from District 2 ended up losing a nearly thirty hour long battle against Jade from District 1. Not that the winner is in a good condition either. We're still not sure if there's going to be a surviving victor for this year's Games or if Jade will exsanguinate faster than the Capitol doctors can pump more blood in. Our own tributes have been dead from early on in the Games and it's been nothing but a long and dreary wait since then.

Peeta is already in bed, fast asleep. He decided two hours ago that he doesn't care anymore who wins and that he'll find out when he wakes up anyway. We're not allowed to leave until the final battle is over but he snorted that he would like to see who was going to stop him. He's grown a lot more stubborn and defiant in the past year than I ever thought him capable of being.

For my own part I can't be bothered brushing my teeth, getting undressed or even getting under the covers. Instead I reach for the blanket at the foot of the bed and cover myself with that. I settle in on my side, facing Peeta. In my tired haze I allow myself to fantasize for just a moment that I'm under the covers and in his arms, the way I would like to fall asleep every night. I imagine I feel his warmth, his steadiness, hear the beating of his heart as I drift off to sleep. I miss that feeling of protection and comfort. I miss his body so close to my own. His eyelids flutter a little in his sleep and I wonder what he's dreaming.

With a sigh I roll over on my back. No use even thinking about it. Peeta keeps his physical distance and I keep asking myself if it affects him the same way it affects me, and if so, how he manages to persist. Being back in the Capitol for the Games has, for the first time, brought about something positive in my life. I feel foolish even thinking about it but it's hard to deny. When we're here and we're out in public we have to play the part of the happily married couple. Peeta wraps his arm around my waist when we're out walking, when we stop to chat with people he oftentimes stands behind me with his arms around my waist in an almost protective manner, and when people's eyes are upon us we sometimes kiss. I haven't realized how starved I've been for these touches until we came back here.

Thinking back on the past few months my mind goes to Gale and the time we spend in the woods together. Gale has become more physical with me, oftentimes putting his hand on my arm or wrapping his arm around my shoulders when we sit together in our glade. He'll give me playful little nudges from time to time, shooting me smiles that warm my heart. I've been thinking how it's good to know that at least one of the boys in my life has come around and stopped acting so awkward and bothered but right now I feel strange looking back at those touches. I've taken them to mean nothing more than camaraderie but deep down inside I'm not so sure that's all there is to it.

I wonder what President Snow would do if he found out about Gale's and my physical closeness these days. It would look like adultery no doubt. The thought seems absurd at first but deep down I know there's truth to it. I know I wouldn't be accepting as many touches by Gale if I got some closeness from Peeta at home. I know I can't blame him for any of this, nor can I blame Gale, but it's difficult to know how to handle this situation.

I look over at my sleeping husband again and wish I could tell him how much I would rather have it be his arm around my shoulders and his playful nudges. I know it's no use. The moment we return home to Twelve he will cease the physical contact. I decide to take this particular moment, even though he is asleep, to enjoy his closeness. I reach out my hand and carefully stroke his cheek, letting my fingers trail back to his hair and carefully comb through his curls. I scoot closer to him, as close as I dare go, and fall asleep with my face so close to his that I can feel his every exhale on my skin.

A week later the party to celebrate the victor is in full swing. The girl, Jade, has recovered from her injuries and thanks to some generous usage of Capitol painkillers she appears completely unbothered. She sat on up stage with Caesar Flickerman and watched herself perform in the Games, killing four tributes on her road to becoming the victor. It's hard to tell if she's really as unbothered and cold as she appears or if that's the work of the drugs.

Once the cameras have been turned off the party commences and Peeta and I begin our show, though keeping it properly subdued. We wouldn't want to steal the spotlight away from our glorious victor, now would we?

We walk past a table filled with plates of fruit. Peeta picks up a strawberry and dips it in whipped cream as we pass by. He then holds the berry out to me and I take a big bite, closing my eyes for a second as I enjoy the sweet taste. A bit of cream has ended up at the corner of my mouth and Peeta leans in and licks it up in a kiss. It sends a pleasant shiver run through me. I'll never know how he can be so good at small moments like that.

"The happy couple" says a familiar voice behind us.

I feel a cold shiver run down my spine as we turn around and find ourselves face to face with President Snow. He hardly ever appears at these things other than to stand on his balcony and say a word or two. Seeing him down here, among actual people, is somehow frightening.

"President Snow" says Peeta, pretending as if it's no big deal at all.

"Oh how it warms the heart to see young love" says the president with a smirk.

I have to force myself to keep the smile on my own face. People are watching us; I can't let my discomfort show.

"Oh we try to tone it down a notch when we're out among people" I say in a coquettish tone I never knew I had until the Games.

"Indeed." He smiles slightly. "I have arranged for an interview with the two of you tomorrow. It's been a while since the people of Panem last got to hear from you. It's so important, don't you think, to remind them of the happy things in life." His eyes trail up and down by body in a way that makes me feel like he's undressing me in his mind. It makes me shiver and I grab Peeta's hand tighter. "No happy announcement of an addition to the family forthcoming?"

"No" says Peeta, sounding more casual than I would be able to. "Not yet."

Snow steps closer to us and then leans in so that he can lower his voice for only Peeta and I to hear.

"It would be such a shame if the no longer star-crossed lovers didn't get to share the joys of upcoming parenthood with the whole country within the near future. Perhaps the two of you should spend more time working on that cause and less time worrying about the struggles of daily life." He turns to me and leans in even closer. He whispers in my ear and the smell of roses and blood nearly sickens me. "Let him in your bed. Or I shall be forced to find somebody else who can do the job."

So he thinks I am the one refusing Peeta. I can only muster the hint of a nod as he leans back and, after giving me one last smirk, walks away. The smile is gone from my face and I'm trembling. I knew this would happen at some point or other but I was hoping we'd have more time. Now I have to convince Peeta to take my virginity, impregnate me even, or it will be anyone's guess who Snow will pick for the job. Finnick Odair perhaps, the sexy young mentor from District 4. Brutus maybe, a large brute from District 2. Good heavens, what if he decides to have Haymitch do it?

"Katniss?" There is concern in Peeta's voice. "Are you okay?"

"Just… smile" I force myself to say. "And dance with me."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing I want to repeat out here."

He nods slowly and leads me to the dance floor. It's a slow dance playing and I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my cheek against his chest. I know I can't bring myself to smile and look happy in this moment so I close my eyes and pretend to be completely absorbed in Peeta. While we dance my mind is working in overdrive. What are we going to do? Do we have to actually conceive a child for Snow to be satisfied?

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes."

I open my eyes when I hear Jade's voice. She's standing right beside us, appraising Peeta with a smirk that show's a baffling amount of confidence. Her skin has that eerie quality all victors have fresh out of the hospital, all scars and blemishes removed, but her face seems pale even underneath the carefully crafted makeup. Her eyes, on the other hand, are vivid and insistent.

"How about a dance?" she says, her voice dripping with what I think is seduction.

"Go away" I snarl at her. "He's mine."

For a second she looks startled, then an amused smirk appears on her face.

"Very well, then." She winks at Peeta. "Some other time. When the missus is not in the wrong part of the month."

I scowl at her and without thinking my hand leaves Peeta's neck and moves to slap her. Peeta luckily catches me mid-motion and manages to make it seem like we were just switching dance positions.

Jade walks away into the crowds and Peeta and I both watch her go.

"Come on" he then says. "Let's get you out of here."

"We have a problem" I declare the second the door closes behind us and we are alone.

"Yeah I got that" remarks Peeta. He begins to loosen the tie around his neck. "What exactly did Snow say to you?"

"You're going to have to take off a lot more than that" I say, already working on the unnecessarily complicated button arrangement at the top of my dress. "No more putting it off. Tonight is the night it has to happen."

"That what has to happen?"

I look at him for a moment, hesitating. It's hard to put words to it. I look over to the bed and he follows my gaze. When I look back at him our eyes meet. He then snorts and shakes his head, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand.

"You can't even say it. There's no way we're going to actually do it."

"Yeah but we have to" I say, grabbing the bedspread and yanking it down with a forceful tug.

"Why?"

"You know why." I stop for a moment and look at him. "He thinks I'm the one refusing you… sex. He's grown tired of waiting for us to have a baby."

"A man his age being so fixated on a pair of teenagers procreating is just twisted" says Peeta surly.

"Come on" I say, resisting the urge to scowl. "You know what it's really about. He wants to control us and he wants to-"

"What he wants is to stop any speculation that you and I did that thing with the berries for any reason other than love for one another." By now he's shirtless and he makes a point to grab a flannel pyjama jacket to sleep in. "I'll take care of it. Without you having to do anything you're clearly not comfortable doing."

"How are you going to take care of it?" I ask, feeling near tears. "I'm okay with it; let's just do it."

"No you're not okay" he argues. "Just leave it to me. I can handle Snow."

"Peeta."

"That's the end of it."

He pulls the pyjama top over his head and climbs into bed. I stand beside the bed, eyeing him with frustration. I should tell him about Snow's threat. But for the first time I find myself hesitating because of what all of this would mean for him. He keeps insisting that he won't rape me, no matter how much I protest that it wouldn't be rape he clearly feels like it would be, but if it comes down to it being him or somebody else he'll probably agree that it's better for it to be him. But what does that mean? Forcing him to do it against his will, wouldn't that be raping him?

It doesn't really matter. We're running out of time and options. I change into my own pyjamas and climb into bed next to him, knowing that we won't be sleeping in each other's arms tonight but one night soon we're going to have to do so much more than just sleep. There is no other alternative.

"So Peeta, Katniss… Tell us all about what's going on with you."

I arrange my face in the expression I most commonly use for interviews. One of a shy, coquettish girl who feels a little bashful about her own emotions. I probably won't be able to get away with that for much longer but for now I intend to rely on it.

We're sitting in an uncomfortable white loveseat in Caesar Flickerman's studio, recording the interview President Snow mentioned to us at the party the night before. We've been dressed up in matching red outfits which look very tacky to our eyes but apparently look darling to the audience. The interview is airing live, probably so we won't be able to do anything foolish. That makes it all the more important that I'm convincing, since there is no room for editing.

Peeta seems relaxed next to me. He's been introvert all day long and not even Haymitch seems to know what he plans on doing to get Snow to back off for a while. He hasn't even told me if he plans on doing something during the interview. Right now he's got a smile on his face and banters comfortably with Caesar as if they are old friends. He's retelling a story of an incident a few months ago, of when I was taking a bath and that stupid cat Buttercup came running into the bathroom and took a leap to sit at the tub, misjudging how slippery the porcelain would be and fell right into the tub with me. It ended with a hysterical cat and more than few scratch marks for me. The story is funny I suppose but when Peeta tells it he neglects to mention that it took place in my old house and that the person who helped dry me off and took care of my scratches was Prim and not him.

"So life in District 12 is still a fairy-tale" smiles Caesar.

I manage another fake smile, wondering if he's saying things like that to annoy us or if he genuinely doesn't grasp that fairy-tales have no place in the outer districts.

"We're enjoying out happily ever after" offers Peeta.

"I must ask you…" says Caesar, shifting to a more serious tone and leaning forward in his chair. "There does seem to be one component missing from that happily ever after. Tell me – have you given any thought to having children yet?"

Maybe he really is that obtuse. I didn't even know couples in the Capitol could make the active choice to have children or not. In the districts it's very difficult to have a physical relationship and avoid pregnancy and for victors it's as good as impossible.

Peeta looks away from Caesar for a moment and seems a bit upset. I suddenly feel worried that he's going to do something truly stupid, like give away the secret that we're actively trying not to have children. Instead he looks back at Caesar with sorrow in his blue eyes and swallows before he speaks.

"Well, Caesar, the thing is…" He glances over at me and takes my hand, squeezing it a little. "This is not something we had planned on talking about."

"Oh come on now" urges Caesar. "You're among friends here."

Peeta gives me another look, an apologetic one, which makes me even more worried. Is he just pretending, or is he going to actually out our secret?

"You see… Katniss did get pregnant while we were on our honeymoon."

My eyes go wide and I quickly turn my face away, trying to rally from the shock of that lie and to try and figure out where he is going with this. Luckily that reaction goes well with having had such a secret just revealed on national television, if it had been the truth.

"You did?" says Caesar to me, sounding both excited and worried.

"Katniss… She…" Peeta sighs heavily and squeezes my hand again. "We lost the baby. About two months after we got back to Twelve."

I can hear gasps and even a few cries from the studio audience, even though this outcome should have been obvious since we didn't bring a child to the Capitol this year. I feel completely mortified by what Peeta is saying but at the back of my mind I know that my reaction works so I let myself just go with it and play along. I can chew him out later. There's no way I can deny his claims right now anyway.

"Oh I'm so sorry" says Caesar, brimming over with compassion, his hand pressed to his heart.

"It was devastating" says Peeta. His voice sounds thick with barely restrained emotion. I don't know how he does it, neither the lies that come so effortlessly out of his mouth nor the way he says them as if he truly believes that what he's saying is reality. "It took us months until we felt we could try again. And we were successful when we did try. But it didn't work that time either. Then we thought third time might be the charm but…" He shakes his head, gives me a sad look and then turns back to Caesar. I think I see the hint of a tear in his eyes but I can't be sure. "We can't do it again. We just can't. Maybe it's not meant to happen for us. I don't know. All I know is that losing a child… There's nothing worse than that. I think anyone out there who's a parent knows what I'm talking about." His face turns to me again. "Katniss and I cannot lose another child. So we made the decision not to try and have another. We don't need babies anyway, right? We have each other and that's more than we ever dared hope for."

By now Caesar has tears in his eyes, I hear sniffling in the audience and I'm about ready to burst out crying myself. Maybe he really did do it. Maybe this brand new story he's concocted can save us. Nobody is going to expect us to get pregnant after hearing this. It all depends on whether Peeta is right about Snow's intentions or if I am.

"Katniss, do you have anything to say?"

I turn towards Caesar, still reeling from the shock of everything Peeta has been saying. After a second or two I manage to gather my wits and find my voice.

"No" I say hoarsely. "Just what Peeta said." I look at my husband. "We cannot lose another child. We have each other and that's enough."

Once the interview is over we are taken back to our quarters where Haymitch and Effie are waiting. Neither Peeta nor I have spoken as much as one word on the way over but the people escorting us seem to think we're just sad and emotional after the tragic reveal during the interview and have let us be. I'm guessing Effie and Haymitch won't accept our silence, though.

"There" says Peeta once we are alone with our mentor and main escort, barely even looking at me when he speaks. "I took care of it, like I said I would." He walks past me and heads straight for our bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

"What did you do to put him in that great mood?" asks Haymitch dryly.

"Go drown in a bottle, Haymitch" I snarl and begin to walk off.

"I don't think he wants you to follow him."

"That's my bedroom too" I scowl.

"Let me put it another way then… Think it will be any pleasant in there, you and him alone, right now?"

I know he's right and I know Peeta deserves privacy if he wants it but it still irritates me a lot. I want to have an argument with Peeta, let my frustrations out, yell at him for the things he said on TV and make him tell me why he can't manage to take me to bed. Is the thought of sleeping with me really that apprehensible to him?

"Katniss, darling, I'm so sorry" says Effie, reminding me of her presence and of the play we're performing.

I want to snap at her and let her know once and for all that what Peeta said during the interview was just a lie. What stops me is the knowledge that the walls have ears and we might end up in even greater trouble if I say too much.

"Why, why can't people just stop pestering us about babies?" I cry instead, venting as much frustration as I dare to. "It's like this big, huge bat they keep hitting us with all the damn time. Can't we have anything to ourselves?" I'm almost at the verge of tears, not because I'm sad but because I'm so damn frustrated. "Does no one realize how hard it is to constantly have to talk about it? Doesn't anyone see what a toll it takes on us?"

Haymitch walks up and grabs a hold of my arms, a move that would normally make me angry but even in my current state of mind I realize he's about to dole out some important piece of advice having to do with things beyond my comprehension.

"I'd lay low with the whining if I were you" he hisses in my ear. "Damn it, sweetheart, you and Peeta have got it made. There isn't an attractive victor in Panem who doesn't wish they had your lot in life. Realize, Katniss, that the cross you have to bear is a mere splinter compared to what most of us are settled with."

He lets me go in a slightly forceful motion that nudges me back a few steps. My eyes meet his and for the moment my anger and frustration is subdued and replaced with worried curiosity. What does he mean? None of the other victors have been forced into marriage. Many of them are as single as could be, spending one or more nights every year with some rich or important Capitol person. They gallivant about freely, enjoying themselves as much as possible, making the absolute most of their position as celebrities. What crosses do they have to bear that outweighs Peeta's and mine?

"Let the boy be for now" says Haymitch in a normal tone of voice. "He needs some solitude. You need a goddamned drink."

"That's your solution to everything" I scowl, wanting to get back some of the ground I feel I just lost. "Alcohol."

"Bless whoever first discovered it." He spins me around and puts a large hand on the small of my back. "You should try it, for once."

"No thank you" I say stubbornly.

He ushers me towards the bar in the sitting room, me resisting mostly to put up a symbolic fight, realizing I have nowhere better to be right now anyway. With a scowl I take a seat on a barstool, roll my eyes and look away as Haymitch pours a drink for himself and one for me. I hear the clicking of Effie's heels and wonder why she's followed us. Surely she hasn't turned to drinking too.

"Bottom's up, sweetheart" says Haymitch, setting a tall glass full of some pale red alcoholic beverage down in front of me.

I scowl at him and am just about to childishly shove the glass over the counter and down on the floor when Effie speaks.

"Really, Katniss, drinking won't help matters."

Feeling provoked I glare at her and defiantly grab the glass, chugging back two large gulps that burn surprisingly much going down. Couching and hacking I set the glass down with a slam, my eyes filling with tears. Haymitch laughs and Effie throws her hands up in the air and trots off.

"Such a rookie" laughs Haymitch. "You disappoint me, sweetheart."

"I seem to disappoint everyone these days" I mutter, feeling sorry for myself.

"Oh fantastic" sighs Haymitch, taking a seat beside me and sipping his own drink. "A pity party."

I hesitate for a moment, then lower my voice to what's barely more than a whisper.

"Peeta pushes me away. I thought he would want to be my husband when we got married but he acts like he hates the whole damn thing. Gale didn't speak to me for weeks after the wedding and he alternates between acting like we can't be friends like we used to be and acting like we should be more than friends. President Snow wants me to be a damn breeding mare and no matter how I act in public he still makes me feel like I'm not selling the romance thing enough."

"I'm fresh out of pity" says Haymitch. "I don't care about any of the things you just said. You're still the luckiest damn victor in the bunch, with the exception of the ugly ones, not that Snow can't make their lives miserable too."

"How the hell am I lucky?" I snort.

"You'll find out in time" he sighs, for the first time sounding genuinely wistful, though I'm too wrapped up in my own problems to care. I don't really want to know what other miseries we might be subjected to.

"I think it's more accurate to say I'm thoroughly screwed" I complain.

"Katniss, wake up" snorts Haymitch, snapping his fingers in front of my face. "If Cousin Hunting Buddy is a real friend to you he's not going to go anywhere. As for that boy you're married to, he loves you unconditionally and very few people are lucky enough to find someone who loves them like that."

"So what?" I ask, feeling a strange lump in my throat. I take another sip of alcohol to force it away. "He doesn't act like it." I have no idea why I tell Haymitch the next thing that slips past my lips in a hushed whisper. "He won't even consummate the marriage with me even though he knows I want that to happen."

This catches Haymitch's interest. He gives me a long, thorough look while I feel my cheeks burning red, wishing I could disappear from the face of the earth. What the hell was I doing telling him that? What happens if somebody overheard?

"So you're telling me…" Haymitch begins with incredulity, gesturing back and forth with his hand. "You're telling me that you've invited the boy to go ahead and dive right in and he… stays on the shore?"

"What the hell kind of euphemism is that?" I bark, trying to hide my embarrassment by taking another gulp from my drink.

Haymitch whistles and nods his head slowly.

"Got to say… Never thought the boy had that in him." Then he laughs. "I mean, I knew he refused initially but I gave it about two months before I figured he would break and give in. He's wanted you for most of his life. If you are actually trying to get him to… breech that frontier, as it were, then he's got more character than anyone I know." He nods thoughtfully. "Though this does explain why he's so grouchy nowadays."

"He's not grouchy" I snarl.

"He must be spending an awful lot of time showering in ice-cold water. You're basically dangling a large steak in front of a starving man and he's refusing."

"Haymitch enough with the metaphors."

"Look sweetheart, I mean what I said" says Haymitch, now serious in his tone. "You are the luckiest victor in the bunch and you will realize why some day. Peeta might just have bought you enough leeway today that you'll never have to do what he's resisting to do. Don't push him. I'm worried he might snap. There's only so much a person can take, even if they are unbelievably stubborn."

He grabs his glass and then grabs mine as well, walking off to his bedroom with the drinks. I watch him go and sigh heavily. What's wrong with me? Even though Peeta might have saved us from ever having to have sex I still feel like I've been cheated of something. I don't know if what I want is sex per se but at least having sex would allow me physical closeness to him. I miss having that and I don't want to go a whole lifetime without it.