I'm so tired, Katniss.

I'm relieved Peeta's alive. I tell myself again that if I get killed, his winnings will benefit my mother and Prim the most. This is what I tell myself to explain the conflicting emotions that arise when I think of Peeta. The gratitude that he game an edge by professing his love for me in the interview. The anger at his superiority on the roof. The dread that we may come face-to-face at any moment in this arena.

I pull an arrow, whip the notch into place, and am about to let it fly when I'm stopped by the sight of Finnick kissing Peeta. And it's so bizarre, even for Finnick.

I don't think it's going to work out. Winning...won't help in any case. Because...she came here with me. - Peeta Mellark

All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly. And I hate him for it.

As coal pressured into pearls by our weighty existence. Beauty that arose out of pain.

Really? What did you cost me again? I ask. A lot of trouble. Don't worry. You'll get it all back,he says.