The Everlark Family: Book 1

3 - The Topic

For the next couple of days, there was a wracking guilt I faced when I would look at Peeta, when I would kiss him, when we would sleep together at night. There was a very annoying topic that kept buzzing inside my head since the moment Peeta had brought up the whole ordeal: that topic was children.
And I have, as it usually went, been the insensitive one. Not even willing to hear Peeta out, and not even willing to offer any apologies for it. Not until it drove me crazy one day while we worked on building our new house.

"Peeta," I looked up to see he was on his knees observing the sketch that he was so focused on, "Peeta?"
"This. . ." he shook his head, biting his lower lip in frustration. "I think something is wrong. This sketch and the foundation we laid down doesn't match. I think something is off, I just don't
know what."
Peeta, being a perfectionist, was overly-critical of the way he was building the house. To me, it looked perfect. Probably because I struggled to even build a house out of blocks.
"The foundation looks even to me--I think it's great."
"Exactly. . . I just don't know what's going on."
"Well, it is getting dark out, we should probably head home and work on the house tomorrow."
Peeta nodded and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Okay, yeah. If I over-obsess on anything else with this house I might go nuts."

The further we walked to my house, the darker the sky got, and the heavier the clouds grew.
"Looks like those clouds might drop gallons of water on us any second." Peeta said aloud as he draped an arm over me. "Look at all those colors up there in the stormy sky. All those deep purples and grays and blues. That would be awesome to paint."
But I wasn't interested in the sky or the colors of it. "Peeta?"
"Yeah?"
"I need to say something."
"What's wrong, Katniss?"
"About," I paused to clear my throat, "about, you know, my thoughts on children--"
"Oh, we don't have to talk about that--"
"No, I want to. I just want to apologize about how rude I sounded the other day when you brought it up. I do want kids, but the thought of them being surrounded by paparazzi, finding out about our nightmares, flashbacks, the Games. It's a little hard to swallow."

Peeta's dark blue eyes looked deeply into mine. I knew he understood me.
"Yeah, I get it. It's hard for me to think about, too. But we shouldn't worry about that, that will be worked out over time, and they will find out over time, but we shouldn't let that hold us back."
I laugh, even though I feel like kicking myself. "That's why I go to you, Peeta. You always make me feel so ridiculous and irrational, because everything you say is so ethical and wise."
"I wouldn't say I'm eth--"
"Oh," I interrupt Peeta, "don't even start with that humble stuff."
He laughs, and I join him.
"Boy or girl?" He prompts.
"Hey, now, I didn't say we're going to become parents tonight. I still have a long while to think it out."

Peeta suddenly stops walking and turns to me, wrapping his hands around my waist, he draws me swiftly into him. "Mm, not too long."
He begins to kiss me then. Sweetly and softly. The romance starts to intensify, and before we can make it inside our house, thunder sounds and rain follows in heavy drops that fall upon us, soaking through our shirts.
"Come on," Peeta says, "we can continue this inside."