Buttercup, miserable even with Prim’s constant attention, huddles in the cube and exhales cat breath in my face.

Because...because...she came here with me.

At the moment, the choice would be simple. I can survive just fine without either of them.

Finnick:" Good to see you, Peeta." Peeta:" You be nice to her, Finnick. Or I might try and take her away from you." It could be a joke, if the tone wasn't so cold. Everything it conveys is wrong. The open distrust of Finnick, the implication that Peeta has his eye on Annie, that Annie could desert Finnick, that I do not even exist. Finnick:"Oh Peeta," says Finnick lightly. "Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart.

I'm not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together.

In my mind, President Snow should be viewed in front of marble pillars hung with oversized flags. It's jarring to see him surrounded by the ordinary objects in the room. Like taking the lid off a pot and finding a fanged viper instead of stew.

Who says i can't handle it? I can handle it," said Gregor obviously not handling it.