A/N: I've gotten a few requests for drabbles on some of my past PiP pieces, and thought that I'd post them here too, since they're not much shorter than some of the originals. If I ever do any additional drabbles, I'll be sure to post them too, but this still isn't an ongoing fic. Thanks for reading! And check me out on tumblr (absnow) where most of the drabbles are born.

They get married in the spring. It's a small ceremony between services one Sunday with only their families in attendance. Prim braids flowers in Katniss's hair, and fastens an ivory sash around her waist over the dress their mother wore at her wedding. Katniss's hands won't stop trembling as her mother walks her down the aisle, and the only way she can hold herself together is to grip onto the bunch of wildflowers she carries for dear life.

Peeta looks perfect as usual. His Army uniform is freshly pressed without a stitch out of place, and every medal across his breast pocket is so polished and clean that when they catch the light streaming through the stained glass windows, she's nearly blinded. He doesn't usually walk with a cane anymore, but his hand rests lightly on the handle of the mahogany walking stick his brother brought home from Ireland.

Time stands still with each step she takes, and as she approaches the alter, she sees his knees begin to buckle, and his weight shift forward to support fully against the cane.

He chuckles nervously and his face flushes a bit before he says, "There will never be a day you stop sweeping me off my feet."

They get their own place — a cramped little apartment above one of the shops in town. The bedroom barely fits a bed and the living room barely fits a sofa and they have exactly one pot in their kitchen that they use to prepare every meal. But it's theirs, and she loves it.

Peeta goes back to school and studies to become a teacher. He has discipline and patience, but most importantly, he is compassionate and kind. Katniss is proud of him for pursuing more in life, but at the same time, she feels stunted. She's worked at the Walmart just outside of town since she was in high school, and although she doesn't hate it — she works in the Sports and Outdoors department after all — it's not exactly the career she ever envisioned.

But that's the problem, because she never really envisioned herself anywhere.

Now that she's married, it seems to be an even bigger issue. The ring on her finger may as well be a tattoo of the word "INCUBATOR" on her forehead with all the attention her womb suddenly gets. She's not opposed to having children, but she's young — only 21, and she'd like to get her life in order before she starts planning out another.

"We said the same thing too," her sister in law tells her during one of the Mellark's summer barbeques. "Then six months later the stick turned blue, and now we have three of them." Her eyes look tired, but her smile is genuine and bright. "Deep down, I think we were just saying that we wanted to wait, but deep down, we were too afraid to say what we actually wanted."

Katniss nods politely and only bites her tongue, even though she wants to scream. She knows what she wants deep down, it's everyone else who won't listen. The only opinion that matters about the whole thing is her own… and Peeta's.

Peeta never says much about the issue, only smiles apologetically when it's brought up because he knows how it makes her uncomfortable. But Katniss doesn't know what he thinks deep down in these alleged, baby wanting cockles of his subconscious.

He loves his nieces and nephews, that much is obvious. While he's social with adults at these sorts of gatherings, he's usually got a kid in his hands too. Bouncing the infant on his good knee while he chats with his father, or listening with actual sincerity while the toddlers are explaining the rules to some incoherent game they invented. He seems so happy around them. Eager too.

It weighs on her mind all through the afternoon and evening.

"I don't want to get pregnant," she exclaims as they slide into bed that night.

He blinks a few times, a bewildered look in his eyes. "Do you want me to use protection? Another pair of sweatpants to be on the safe side? Because Katniss, from what I've been told, you can't get a girl pregnant by sleeping next to her in your underwear."

She realizes she's gone about it in the wrong way. "You want to have kids," she says, hoping she's making sense.

"Well yeah," he says, perplexed.

"Right now."

"I wouldn't mind fooling around a bit." He let's out one of those uneasy chuckles he uses when he's saying the things he knows she wants to hear. "But that wasn't the intended end result." She gives him the look that says she's not convinced, and he laughs more genuinely this time. "Come on Katniss. Let's be realistic. Where would we even put it?" And his arm smacks against the wall loudly when he gestures around their tiny bedroom to emphasis how small it is.

This makes her feel better, and she takes his sore wrist in her hand, smoothing the muscles with methodical swirls of her thumbs. He sighs and leans his head against her shoulder as he watches. "You're really good at this," he murmurs, with a dreamy lilt.

She smiles. She is good at it. She's been to every one of his physical therapy sessions since they started to get serious, and she took detailed mental notes of all his exercises and cool down methods so she could help him at home. Even his PT complimented her when she was helping him stretch in the waiting room during a particularly sore day.

"I want to go back to school too," she says abruptly. She'd never have the money to become a full fledged therapist, but she's spoken with some of the assistants — who were no older than her — and they got an associates degree in less than two years.

Peeta nods, already half asleep, and rolls over to drape his arm across her waist.

Her mind's too excited to turn off, and when she closes her eyes, she pictures her future. And suddenly, it no longer scares her.