But I Don't Know What

It's A Long Shot, It's Suicide Maybe, But I Do The Only Thing I Can Think Of. I Lean In And Kiss Peeta Full On The Mouth. His Whole Body Starts Shuddering, But I Keep My Lips Pressed To His Until I Have To Come Up For Air. My Hands Slide Up His Wrists To Clasp His. "don't Let Him Take You From Me." Peeta's Panting Hard As He Fights The Nightmares Raging His Head. "no. I Don't Want To. . ." I Clench His Hands To The Point Of Pain. "stay With Me." His Pupils Contract To Pinpoints, Dilate Again Rapidly, And Then Return To Something Resembling Normalcy. "always," He Murmurs.

The Walls Of This Elevator Are Made Of Crystal So That You Can Watch The People On The Ground Floor Shrink To Ants As You Shoot Up Into The Air. It's Exhilarating And I'm Tempted To Ask Effie Trinket If We Can Ride It Again, But Somehow That Seems Childish.

I Can Almost Hear Haymitch Groaning As I Team Up With This Wispy Child. But I Want Her. Because She's A Survivor, And I Trust Her, And Why Not Admit It? She Reminds Me Of Prim.

Katniss Everdeen, The Girl Who Was On Fire, You Have Provided A Spark That, Left Unattended, May Grow To An Inferno That Destroys Panem," He Says.

I Send A Silent Thank-you To Dalton For Suggesting I Wash Off The Makeup. How Ridiculous, How Perverse I Would Feel Presenting That Painted Capitol Mask To These People. The Damage, The Fatigue, The Imperfections. That's How They Recognize Me, Why I Belong To Them.