Katniss

He won't look at me. After he found out how long I'd been hiding the fact that I was carrying his baby from him, it shattered something inside him. I decieved him for so long it seems. He won't let me into his room and I lay here in my room, sobbing into my sheets. The baby occasionally squirms in my womb, making me feel worse than I already had and I feel like I've failed both of them.

I can't protect this child. If I die, she dies. And theres nothing that can be helped with that. Its only the size of a walnut if not smaller. Definately not large enough to deliver if I were to die. It doesn't even remotely resemble a human yet, no matter how much I care about.

I never in a million years thought I would,   but I do love this little thing that Peeta and I created, intentional or not. It is my child. I didn't want this to happen because of situations like the one her father and I are in right now. All this death and suffering. Maybe it would be an act of mercy to die and take this little one with me before all this drearyness corrupts this innocent little thing growing in my womb.

And her father, goodness knows he deserves to get to live his life. He didn't run around that arena looking for people to kill like I did. Yes, it was for both Peeta's protection and mine. But that doesn't resolve the fact that I see their faces everytime I close my eyes.

He's a good man, Peeta Mellark. He would have made such an amazing father to this baby. If I don't make it, I can only hope that someday he would get the chance again. There's more than a few girls from 12 who would happily give him that opportunity. And I would hope he'd know I wouldn't want him to morn me and our unborn baby too long, that he's young and needs to move on from what we had, however little or big a feeling it may have been for him.

I keep stareing at the wall, in the dark. Unable to sleep without him here. I can't even remember the last night I didn't sleep with my head on his chest. The last real fight we had was a year ago, in the Capital, with me screaming at him to go away as I sat in a pathetic heap on the penthouse floor after my injury. Now its Peeta thats hurt.

And I'm the one being pushed away.

I eventually just sit up and turn on the lamp beside my bed and pick up a pen and paper sitting by my bed and write a few lines. My final piece so to speak I guess, seeing as I will probably never write a song again. Never again get to see my feelings expressed in a song. Just the thought of this makes me want to get it right. For this to tell Peeta how sorry I am that life can't be that cookie cutter life he wanted.

As I'm finishing writing, for what seems like forever. Throw the paper down and get up. I can't leave things like this with Peeta. I'll never sleep until I do and I doubt he is either right now.

I click my leg in place and swing up onto my feet. The baby moves a little and I lay my hand over it, a tear running down my cheek. It slowly stops and I sigh.

"Lets go see Daddy, Butterfly," I whisper. I walk over to the desk and pull on my long silk robe and tie it tightly over myself. I walk to my door and slip out, walking across the hall and placing my hand on his door. Before I can open it, Peeta slides it open and We just stare at one another for a moment before he steps back to let me in. I walk in and go to sit on his bed. He shuts the door and I just sit there with my hands folded in my lap.

"You couldn't sleep either?" Peeta asks and I nod. "You should be. With you being pregnant and all." I look up at him to see him looking at me with that same defeated look he gave me when he left me not long after telling me he needed to die so I could live on with his baby.

"I don't want us to be mad at eachother, I say. "We only have one week where we are guaranteed to still be together. One week were we will for sure both be alive. And I don't want to fight with you." He shakes his head and comes over to sit next to me. He takes my hand and squeezes it and I look up at him.

"I'm not mad Katniss," he says but he hesitates and immediately changes his wording, "well, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at the situation. We don't get to rule our lives. I'm so angry that I don't get to have this child with you. My child exhists and I will never get to see it, whether I live or you do." I nod and he pulls me close to him and I let him hold me a while.   I wrap my arms around his middle and he slowly, carefully lays us both down. He reaches over to turn out the light and I snuggle into his side.

Peeta kisses me softly and I kiss him back as we lay there in the dark. He holds me tight and I lay ontop of him as his hands run up and down my back. I smile softly at him and he looks fondly at me.

"I don't want to waist the time we have left with us angry," I say. "No more fighting. I want us to just enjoy the time we have left." He chuckles and I feel him pull the tie to my robe and I sit up and shuck it off. I kiss him again and he turns us over and we make love like the first time, sealing that bond we had made with one another last time we were on this train in the room just across the hall.

After its over, its quiet like it is everytime. We've never been ones for pillow talk. I lay down facing the window and Peeta lays down behind me, his arms wrapped around me. I lay my hands over his and I feel him kiss my neck as I start to fall asleep, fading into oblivion.

But before I do, I fedl something else. Something I never intend to mention because he thinks I am asleep and its his business.

I feel tears and hear his soft sobs. This baby truly has destroyed that strenth that lives inside him. I can only hope if what he keeps thinking will happen, my death, happens, he won't give up on life. Because I can never rest in piece knowing he died because of me.