Then I Dive Into My Tent Before

I Clench His Hands To The Point Of Pain. "stay With Me." His Pupils Contract To Pinpoints, Dialate Again Rapidly, And Then Return To Something Resembling Normalcy. "always," He Murmurs.

To This Day, I Can Never Shake The Connection Between This Boy, Peeta Mellark, And The Bread That Gave Me Hope, And The Dandelion That Reminded Me That I Was Not Doomed.

I'm Relieved Peeta's Alive. I Tell Myself Again That If I Get Killed, His Winnings Will Benefit My Mother And Prim The Most. This Is What I Tell Myself To Explain The Conflicting Emotions That Arise When I Think Of Peeta. The Gratitude That He Game An Edge By Professing His Love For Me In The Interview. The Anger At His Superiority On The Roof. The Dread That We May Come Face-to-face At Any Moment In This Arena.

Are You, Are You Coming To The Tree? Wear A Necklace Of Rope, Side By Side With Me. Strange Things Did Happen Here. No Stranger Would Let It Be If We Met Up At Midnight In The Hanging Tree.

On And On We Seal The Pages With Salt Water And Promises To Live Well To Make Their Deaths Count.