Smiling Is Mostly About Smiling More.

Yeah, About That,” Says Peeta, Entwining His Fingers In Mine. “don’t Try Something Like That Again.” “or What?” I Ask. “or . . . Or . . .” He Can’t Think Of Anything Good. “just Give Me A Minute.

Peeta Rinses The Pearl Off In The Water And Hands It To Me. “for You.” I Hold It Out On My Palm And Examine Its Iridescent Surface In The Sunlight. Yes, I Will Keep It. For The Few Remaining Hours Of My Life I Will Keep It Close. This Last Gift From Peeta. The Only One I Can Really Accept. Perhaps It Will Give Me Strength In The Final Moments.

I Can Feel Peeta Press His Forehead Into My Temple And He Asks, 'so Now That You've Got Me, What Are You Going To Do With Me?' I Turn Into Him. 'put You Somewhere You Can't Get Hurt.

Someone Ought To Get Haymitch A Drink.

Do It. Before They Send Those Mutts Back Or Something. I Don't Want To Die Like Cato," He Says. “then You Shoot Me," I Say Furiously, Shoving The Weapons Back At Him. "you Shoot Me And Go Home And Live With It!" And As I Say It, I Know Death Right Here, Right Now Would Be The Easier Of The Two.