Want A Sugar Cube?- Finnick Odair,

If There's A More Helpless Feeling Than Trying To Reach Someone You Love Who's Trapped Underground, I Don't Know It.

Go To Sleep," He Says Softly. His Hand Brushes The Lose Strands Of My Hair Off My Forehead. Unlike The Staged Kisses And Caresses So Far, This Gesture Seems Natural And Comforting. I Don't Want Him To Stop And He Doesn't. He's Still Stroking My Hair When I Fall Asleep.

Even Though I Don't Ask, Plutarch Gives Me Cheerful Updates On The Phone Like "good News, Katniss! I Think We've Almost Got Him Convinced You're Not A Mutt!" Or "today He Was Allowed To Feed Himself Pudding!

Birds Are Settling Down For The Night, Singing Lullabies To Their Young.

Oh, The Fun We Two Have Together.