Closing my eyes doesn't help. Fire burns brighter in the darkness.
But after several hours, I go anyway, walking in silent sock feet, so as not to awaken the ghosts.
for some reason Gale and Peeta do not coexist well in my thoughts.
What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you.
My lips are just forming his name when his fingers lock around my throat.
What must it be like, I wonder, to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button?