Peeta Bakes. I Hunt. Haymitch Drinks Until

While I Was Waiting...i Ate Your Lunch.

Buttercup, Miserable Even With Prim’s Constant Attention, Huddles In The Cube And Exhales Cat Breath In My Face.

Whatever It Takes To Break You.

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.

I Have Been Keeping Track Of The Boy With The Bread.