I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever.
So it's you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans.
He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. His skin, his whole being radiates heat from being so near the fire, and I close my eyes, soaking in his warmth. I breathe in the smell of snow-dampened leather and smoke and apples, the smell of all those wintry days we shared before the Games. I don't try to move away. Why should I anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. "I love you." That's why.
Aim higher in case you fall short.
I always channel my emotions into my work. That way, I don't hurt anyone but myself.
Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?” I say. “I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says. “You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down. “It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.
I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble.
You know, you could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him.
I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.
That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I'm free to act as desperately as I wish.
Sometimes things happen to people and they're not equipped to deal with them.
And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us.
Shame isn't a strong enough word for what I feel. "You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know," Haymitch says.
Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.
My nightmares are usually about losing you. I'm okay once I realize you're here.
Really, the combination of the scabs and the ointment looks hideous. I can't help enjoying his distress. "Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?" I say. "It must be. The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?" he asks. "Just avoid mirrors. You'll forget about it," I say. "Not if I keep looking at you," he says.
Katniss, the girl who was on fire!
The bird, the pin, the song, the berries, the watch, the cracker, the dress that burst into flames. I am the mockingjay. The one that survived despite the Capitol's plans. The symbol of the rebellion.
At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead.The hard thing is finding the courage to do it.
Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.
Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable.
I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite.
So I only say, "So what should we do with our last few days?" "I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you," Peeta replies.
We star-crossed lovers of District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little the rewards of our victory, do not seek our fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. We are unforgiving. And I love it. Getting to be myself at last.
Look, if you wanted to be babied you should have asked Peeta.
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