Just One More Thing. I Kill Snow.

Oh, And I Suppose The Apples Ate The Cheese.

He Tilts His Forehead Down To Rest Against Mine And Pulls Me Closer. His Skin, His Whole Being Radiates Heat From Being So Near The Fire, And I Close My Eyes, Soaking In His Warmth. I Breathe In The Smell Of Snow-dampened Leather And Smoke And Apples, The Smell Of All Those Wintry Days We Shared Before The Games. I Don't Try To Move Away. Why Should I Anyway? His Voice Drops To A Whisper. "i Love You." That's Why.

Haymitch Said You'd Take A Lot Of Convincing.

Cato Kneels Beside Clove, Spear In Hand, Begging Her To Stay With Him. In A Moment, He Will Realize It's Futile, She Can't Be Saved.

I'll Tell Them How I Survive It. I'll Tell Them That On Bad Mornings, It Feels Impossible To Take Pleasure In Anything Because I'm Afraid It Could Be Taken Away. That's When I Make A List In My Head Of Every Act Of Goodness I've Seen Someone Do. It's Like A Game. Repetitive. Even A Little Tedious After More Than Twenty Years. But There Are Much Worse Games To Play.