In stark contrast to two nights ago, when I felt Peeta was a million miles away, I'm struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe.
Suzanne CollinsMy little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my motherโs body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten-down. Primโs face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me.
Suzanne Collins