Chapter Two
"He has more questions." Haymitch tells me three days later at breakfast.
"He's asking for you."
Without a second though, I get up from the table, leaving my tray of food and grabbing my breakfast roll. Haymitch and I walk together, myself munching on the roll even though my hunger is gone at the thought of seeing Peeta again. I'm eating it for the baby, his baby. I'm eating it for him. We get into his observation room overlooking his room, I see even after a few days, his cheeks are shades of pink. Not from blush or heat, but from eating. I wonder if I had something to do with that… We go through the same things as before. I am going to call it protocol, my demands and their consent. I head back in, more hopeful and the guard gives a small smile this time. One never looks at me, this one looked sympathetically at me last time, this time a smile. He buzzes me in and I walk straight inside, standing behind the closed door. He looks to me and I swear he almost smiles at me.
"Hey."
"Hi." I say back, trying to look at my feet, but finding it impossible.
"Come and sit. Your cinnamon bun feet must be hurting."
I smile, this time I cannot hide it. I walk over and sit in the chair, putting my feet up and sighing.
"Better?"
I nod with a smile, thanking him softly.
Something catches my eye and I look down, seeing his hand turn back up to face up at me. I look over at Peeta and his eyes are slightly vacant. I take his hand and do what I did last time, rubbing my thumb alone the top of his hand. His eyes close and I hear him sigh, relief I think. This may be our protocol…
"How far along are you?" He asks, eyeing my stomach.
I know it's my stomach he's eyeing off and not my breasts, I'm wearing the uniform and it covers my breasts from sight.
"Twenty-five weeks."
"So, over six months?" He clarifies after a little bit of time.
I nod, "Yeah."
"And pregnancies go for…"
"Forty weeks." I confirm.
He nods his head at me, then shaking it a little bit when his eyes close.
"Not long left?"
I shake my head, "No."
"I was gone a long time wasn't I?"
"Yes. Almost three months."
His head shakes and I know that he's hating Snow at the moment, if the real Peeta is inside. The real Peeta would have hated anyone who stopped him from feeling the baby move for the first time, being there for the appointments we could have here in Thirteen.
"Did you keep it to yourself? The pregnancy." Peeta asks curious, he mustn't remember anything about the time I told him at all…
"No, I told you, on the way to the Capitol for the Games. As soon as I found out myself I told you. I knew you've known something was up if I didn't tell you straight away. You always knew when something was up with me before I knew it myself."
Peeta ponders on this for a while, probably searching through all of those distorted memories and hoping he can find one that isn't.
"You don't remember me telling you?" I ask, hoping it's not something that will set him off today.
Softly, he shakes his head no. I can see he's still sifting through those thoughts.
"It was in your room on the train, you held me and we just cried together…" I trail off, feeling a small swell in my eyes that I try to keep from falling.
"We didn't know that we would get out of the Games. So, we didn't know if the baby would survive…" I don't want to cry. This isn't about me, this is about Peeta and trying to get him to remember. "But we both made deals to protect the other and get the other out, even if it meant dying ourselves." I choke down all my tears and try to save them for later.
"I bet that was really hard." He breathes.
Now I nod my head and say, "Yes." To confirm.
A few minutes pass and Peeta's voice perks up again.
"Do you… I don't want to intrude." He says, second doubting himself.
"It's okay, Peeta. Ask me anything."
He opens his eyes, brow furrowing and his eyes flicking between my two.
"Is it a girl or boy?"
I shake my head, looking down at my stomach, running my spare hand over it and then looking back up to him.
"I haven't found out."
"Why?" He asks, feeling his fingers grip mine tighter, but the people behind the mirror won't be able to see it, it's just for us.
"I… I didn't want to find out if you didn't want to either. So, I haven't."
He looks shocked, startled like deer running into my traps. His hand grabs a tighter grip and I get a little concerned, but then looks at me with slightly glassy eyes.
"You thought of me?"
Instantly I answer, like if I didn't quick enough he'd have a breakdown.
"Of course I did, Peeta! You're the father and I didn't want to know if you couldn't!"
I feel my own tears starting to well up inside my eyes. He sighs heavily, head rolling to look at the ceiling again. I keep my eyes on him and I watch his face screw up and a tear rolling down his cheek. I don't move to remove it, that'd be overstepping.
We're silent for a minute, I let my tears fall as silent as ever, just like him. We sit together, being held together as one by a single hand, a broken family crying together. It's emotional. I can't help it when I choke out a sob. It catches Peeta's attention and his eyes look at mine, wild but almost unaccustomed to my cries. I lean my head down over our hands and I let myself continue to cry.
"It's okay, sweetheart." I hear in my ear.
I sit up, ripping the earpiece from my ear and throwing it at the mirror before I start hiccupping and leaning my head back where it was before. I'm acting exactly like a child. My age says I am, my mind is not, but I still act like it. Peeta's hand is stiff and limp inside mine, but I keep holding it. I feel it slipping out and it sets me into another lot of horrible cries. I think he's really slipping away from me, thanks to my stupid hormones. Then, I feel pressure on my head. I feel his fingers tangling inside my loose hair.
-Flashback-
Peeta's fingers are pulling at my braid, unravelling it from its braid. He fans it out around my head against the pillow like a halo. His fingers still run through my hair, massaging my scalp as he does, soothing me. I close my eyes, turn my head and then look up at Peeta who hovers above me. I see the desire and love inside his eyes as he looks down at me. I feel his desire and love against my inner thigh. His hand comes to my cheek and he rubs it lovingly. I turn my head and kiss his inner palm, turning back to face him and his lips are straight on mine, pulling at my bottom lip and tongue caressing mine. I hook one of my legs over his and flip us over so I'm on top of him. I break our lips and my hair is a dark curtain around us, blocking out the moon rays inside the room. Our breath is mingled together and I press my lips against his again, hard and passionately. I pull my lips back slowly, flicking my hair to the side. I then climb down Peeta's body until I'm eye level with his pants and his huge bulge. I look up at him and he groans, then I grip the zipper and pull it down. I can't help it when I lick my lips.
-End of Flashback-
I pull my head up, my mind now cleared and I feel his fingers get tangled through my hair as I pull back up. He untangles them and then rests his hand palm up right on the bed. I look up into his eyes and see him wanting me to grab it again. But I can't. I need to get out of here. I pick up Peeta's hand and I bring it up to my lips. I place a kiss in the same place I did before. I feel him shudder and then I jump up from the chair beside his bed, wiping my eyes and walking towards the door.
"Katniss! Wait!"
I turn around, feeling the tears well up again from these idiot hormones.
"What?" I croak.
He chokes on his words, stumbling over them inside his mind.
"Can I try something?"
"What?" I ask, now I'm being hostile as I'm getting teary.
Thanks baby…
"Come here. I promise I won't hurt you." He promises, holding his strapped down hand out.
I can't help it. I fall instantly into his grips. I walk back to him slowly and I reach out to take his hand, but he snatches it away.
"No…"
He's got something else in mind. His eyes look from mine to my stomach. I know…
I take a step closer to him, jutting out my stomach towards his hand. I hear his breathing become shaky and mine is being held back. His hand reaches up and luckily I'm short and my stomach is just above the bed level. His fingers gently ghost up and over my stomach, feeling them just gaze it. I get irritated at the jacket and pull it open, letting my stomach being revealed to him under another white singlet. The air between us is electric and I know he's being so tentative around me, holding back so he doesn't accidently hurt the baby. When his fingers ghost over it again, I sigh softly. His eyes look up into mine, asking for permission. I nod very softly, hoping not to throw him off and disturb the air surrounding us. Then he shakily brings his hand up to my stomach. He holds it over, not touching, but measuring his hand in comparison to my stomach. Then he puts it over my stomach and I gasp. He's so gentle and soft, I wouldn't feel it at all if it wasn't for the heat of it running straight into my soul. He gasps too and I can almost see his tears starting up from under my eyelids, my eyes staring at his hand. His thumb rubs over it and goes in a slow back and forth motion. Then I feel it, clear as day and hard as rock. Peeta's hand jerks back and his eyes go wild.
"Peeta…" I whisper, looking at him.
"What did I just do? Did I hurt her? Is she okay? I didn't mean too! Whatever I did! I'm sorry!" He exclaims, tears now dropping down onto his cheeks.
"Peeta…" I whisper again.
He calms down when I grab his hand, holding it between my two small hands.
"I'm sorry baby. I'm so sorry!" He say to the baby, not me.
"You didn't do anything."
"Yes I did!" He exclaims. "I felt it! I did that!"
"You did." I agree, not in the way he thinks.
"Get out! Don't come back! I can't be around you or her if I'm hurting her!" He flings my hands from his.
"Peeta!" I now exclaim.
He stops, looking at me with concern, his wild eyes still present.
"She's saying hello to her Daddy." I whisper.
He stops, eyes confused and still glistening with tears.
"She's what?" He asks.
"Kicking. Saying hello."
He looks at me looking for something to answer his question still, when he sees my calm face, he calms. I grab his hand again, rubbing it to calm him more and then I place it back on my stomach, waiting for more. His hand is still shaking under mine, but he doesn't try to remove it. I feel his thumb rub it again and an instant kick hits the underside of his hand. He gasps, especially when he feels it again and again. Then he's crying, but not moving his hand away. I run my hand across his arm, hoping it can give him some more comfort.
"She's so powerful…" He murmurs and then he does something I haven't seen him do since he came back. He smiles.
He doesn't just smile, he laughs and more tears fall out. It makes me cry with joy and wish this moment could never end. But, the baby grows tired and stops.
"It terrified me when I felt her for the first time."
Maybe one day I can tell Peeta what happened when I felt her for the first time, the terror of thinking I was losing her instead of knowing she was happy inside her home.
Peeta pulls his hand back from my stomach, I drop one of mine and then wipe off my tears. My heart stops when I feel his fingers lace in with mine. I look at our hands in the mid-air and then to Peeta. He's still smiling and I wish it could never leave his face.
"Thank you." He starts, voice small.
"For letting me experience that." He says more confidently.
I smile widely at him and then nod my head.
"You're welcome."
Peeta unlaces our fingers and his hand drops to the bed. I miss our connection, but I get over myself quickly. I turn around and walk towards the door. I lay my hand on the handle and when it buzzes, it turn around and say,
"The baby has never kicked like that before for me. Must already have a favourite."
Then duck out of the room before I can do something stupid like cry again.
