Chapter Twenty-Three

Two Weeks Later

"Oh, Prim," I say. "They are beautiful. Thank you." I hold the tiny, white-knitted hat, socks and jacket in my hands, the material soft and smooth against my skin. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know, but I wanted to. I saved up for the yarn all by myself and made it all alone. Mother didn't help me at all!" Prim replies.

"You should have spent your money on yourself," I say, gently scolding her.

"But I didn't want to, Katniss. I wanted to make my niece or nephew something that would be useful."

"The baby will love these, Little Duck. I know it," I reply, folding the mini items of clothing and sliding them into my bag.

"There isn't much time left!" Prim excitedly exclaims.

"The time has passed so quickly. The more time that passes the more nervous I become," I admit.

"You have nothing to be nervous about," Prim says.

"Sure, Prim," I say, sarcasm thick in my tone. "I don't just have to push the baby out of me, feed it, help it grow, teach it how to survive and be a good person. I have nothing at all to be nervous about."

"What I mean, Katniss," Prim starts, "is that you've practically brought me up, ever since dad died and mother became sick. You know what to do. And you have Peeta. Don't forget that. This baby will be lucky to have such kind and caring parents. Trust me. You will be great. You really have nothing to be nervous about."

My eyes well up with tears at her sweet words and she crosses over to the other side of the room so she can hug me. Stupid hormones. Stupid emotions. "Thank you, Prim. You are the best. You will be the most amazing aunt." I sniff and wipe the tears away as Prim pulls away from me. "You've grown up so fast. You'll be getting married and having your own kids before I know it."

"That won't be happening for a long time," Prim reassures me.

"Good. Wait as long as you can before you marry and have kids. Live your life and do all the things you want to do," I tell her.

"If you could, would you take it all back?" Prim asks.

"Take what back?" I question.

"You and Peeta. The baby. Everything that has happened between you two," Prim explains.

"I don't know, Little Duck. All I know is that I am still very young and I'm struggling even though the baby isn't even born yet. I want you to have the best life possible and while I care for Peeta, if I had the chance to do this differently, I probably would take that chance and do things right."

"I guess you're right," is all she says before she stands to grab her school bag and coat. "Ready to go?"

"Yes," I say.

"Why didn't Peeta come here with you before school like he usually does?" Prim asks as we leave the house.

"His mother isn't feeling well and he said he'd work the early morning shift at the bakery before school to help out. He's going to meet us at the school gates," I reply.

"Have you seen his mother since that evening you went to dinner?"

"No, and I don't plan to until she apologises, to both myself and Peeta. He deserves more than an apology after all she has done to him over the years. Peeta refused to go to work the day after we went to dinner. It took me hours to convince him to go. We need the money, and she's rarely actually in the bakery."

"She'll come around," Prim says.

"I don't think so. She hates me," I reply.

"No one could ever hate you, Katniss. You can be stubborn and a real pain in the a-"

"Don't finish that sentence!" I scold.

"See! There you are, right now, scolding me like a parent would," Prim points out. "Anyway, as I was saying... you can be stubborn and a real pain in the butt, but you also have a big heart and know what to do to make things right."

"You and Peeta could be related. You have a way with words, just like he does, that makes everything alright. I don't know how you both do it. When I try to say something meaningful or try to admit my feelings, I come out with something that makes no sense and sounds stupid," I say.

"Well, instead of using words, show what you mean with actions," Prim suggests.

"You are too wise for your age."

"Hey, Katniss," a voice speaks up from behind me as I sit on my own at my usual table in the school cafeteria at lunch. I spin around to see who has greeted me, not recognising the voice.

It's Lavinia Oaks.

"Oh. Hi, Lavinia," I greet back in a reluctant voice, wishing Peeta or Madge were sitting with me. However, Madge isn't in school today and Peeta is quickly finishing something off in the art room.

Lavinia Oaks and I don't talk.

I don't hate her or anything. She's actually a sweet girl and was Delly Cartwright's best friend, and has also been a friend of Peeta's since he was young but, as far as I know, she hasn't said a word to him since the whole school found out I am pregnant. This automatically makes me dislike her. Why, just because Peeta and I are married and having a baby, does it mean she has to stop speaking to him? Why did all his friends suddenly abandon him?

"Can I sit with you for a moment?" she politely asks.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," I reply, sitting up straighter in my seat before looking around to see if I can spot Peeta.

"I know we haven't really talked before-" she starts, taking a seat opposite me.

I cut her off. "Never. I can't remember a time when I have ever spoke to you. Anyway, cut to the chase. What is it you want?" I ask, feeling slightly suspicious.

"It's about Peeta. I know I have been pretty awful and it was never my intention to, you know, abandon him. Peeta knows how strict my parents are. As soon as they heard about you and Peeta they wanted me to stop spending time with him. I didn't want to go against their wishes but..." she trails off.

"You now regret it?" I fill in for her.

She nods her head almost violently. "He is such a nice boy. And don't take that the wrong way, I don't like him like him, if you know what I mean. I just think he deserves better than us so called 'friends', who were meant to be there for him and stand by him, and have done the complete opposite. Losing Delly was hard for us all, but I know it hurt Peeta the most and we could've helped him during that time."

"Well, I agree with you on that one. I think it was a shitty thing to do."

"I know, and it was. I want to make it up to him but I don't know if he will forgive me," Lavinia admits.

I stare at her for a moment. If Peeta and I had never happened, I wonder if he and Lavinia would have married (it would have probably been Delly if she hadn't died in the Games, but I guess Lavinia would be the other choice), just as I thought Gale and I may have because it would have made sense. I blink.

"You probably know Peeta better than I do, Lavinia. I know, and I'm pretty sure you do also, that Peeta is the sweetest and most kindhearted person in the whole district and possibly the whole of Panem. Of course he will forgive you."

"You're right. I am so happy he got what he always wanted."

"What's that?" I ask.

"You."

Later that day, in the evening, when the day is slowly turning to night, I sit beside Peeta on the couch, resting my head on his firm shoulder while his hand rubs my growing bump.

"Did you talk to Lavinia today?" I ask him, breaking the silence that has settled peacefully around us.

"Yeah. She apologised to me," Peeta replies.

"What did you say to her?" I question.

"That I understand, because her parents would have disapproved of her speaking to me after what happened, and that I forgive her," Peeta says.

"That's why you are so likable. You are such a good person."

He smiles at me and the happiness on his face warms my heart. "She said that she'd like to hang out again and I invited her over for dinner, I hope you don't mind," Peeta says.

"I don't mind... but she does know we live in the Seam, right?" I ask.

"Yes, she knows. Lavinia doesn't care about where we live. She's a good person. I think you two would get along," Peeta replies.

"We'll see," I say, before standing up and stretching my arms above my head. My t-shirt rises and I notice Peeta's eyes lock on the small amount of skin that has been revealed. I blush a little. I don't know what to do, so I say teasingly, "What are you looking at?"

"My world," he replies easily. I wonder how he does it; how he is able to say things with so much meaning and actually mean the words. I hold my breath and watch as he stands and closes the space between us. Our lips clash together like two magnets meeting and my fingers instantly move to his blond curls. His hands remain on my waist as a raging fire passes through me.

We pull apart when we become breathless and lock our eyes on each other. Peeta's cheeks are pink, his hair a mess on his head, his smiling lips slightly swollen. I wonder if I look exactly the same. I swallow, suddenly hit with how much I want him, need him.

I take one of his hands in mine, and lead him up the stairs, and into our bedroom.