Whose is it, do you think?" I say finally. "No telling," says Finnick. "Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?
Peeta smiles at me, sad and mocking. "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart.
if i win and you die, i dont have a home to go back to. you are my life.
Do i really want him dead? What i want... what i want is to have him back.
turn and turn and turn again you see the what, but not the when remedy and wrong entwine and so they form a single vine
I drink in his wholeness, the soudness of his body and mind. It runs through me like the morphling they give me in the hospital, dulling the pain of the last weeks.