Hope Is The Only Thing

Star-crossed Lovers Desperate To Get Home Together. Two Hearts Beating As One. Romance.

Four People Wheel Out A Huge Wedding Cake From A Side Room. Most Of The Guests Back Up, Making Way For This Rarity, This Dazzling Creation With Blue-green, White-tipped Icing Waves Swimming With Fish And Sailboats, Seals And Sea Flowers. But I Push My Way Through The Crowd To Confirm What I Knew At First Sight. As Surely As The Embroidery Stitches In Annie's Gown Were Done By Cinna's Hand, The Frosted Flowers On The Cake Were Done By Peeta's.

So It's You And A Syringe Against The Capitol? See, This Is Why No One Lets You Make The Plans.

My Voice, At First Rough And Breaking On The High Notes, Warms Up Into Something Splendid. A Voice That Would Make The Mockingjays Fall Silent And Then Tumble Over Themselves To Join In.

Gale Is Mine. I Am His. Anything Else Is Unthinkable.