You Call That A Kiss?

Warmblood Now A Bloodborne Death, Will Rob Your Body Of It's Breath Mark Your Skin And Seal Your Fate The Underland Becomes A Plate

Let Me Go!” I Snarl At Him, Trying To Wrest My Arm From His Grasp. “i Can’t,” He Says.

I Feel Like I Owe Him Something, And I Hate Owing People. Maybe If I Had Thanked Him At Some Point, I'd Be Feeling Less Conflicted Now. I Thought About It A Couple Of Times, But The Opportunity Never Seemed To Present Itself. And Now It Never Will. Because We're Going To Be Thrown Into An Arena To Fight To The Death. Exactly How Am I Supposed To Work In A Thank-you In There? Somehow It Just Won't Seem Sincere If I'm Trying To Slit His Throat.

The Anguish I Always Feel When She's In Pain Wells Up In My Chest And Threatens To Register On My Face.

How Do You Bear It?” Finnick Looks At Me In Disbelief. “i Don’t, Katniss! Obviously, I Don’t. I Drag Myself Out Of Nightmares Each Morning And Find There’s No Relief In Waking.” “the More You Can Distract Yourself The Better, ” He Says. “first Thing Tomorrow, We’ll Get You Your Own Rope. Until Then Take Mine.