Frankly, I could use a little sugarcoating.
Suzanne CollinsMots clés protection softening
Dead, but not allowed to die. Alive, but as good as dead.
Suzanne CollinsMots clés dead depression alive
the evil thing is inside, not out.
Suzanne CollinsMots clés mourning depression
But to be honest, I’m not the forgiving type
Suzanne CollinsPeeta rolls his eyes at Haymitch. “She has no idea. The effect she can have.”
He runs his fingernail along the wood grain in the table, refusing to look at me.
But what was it Haymitch said when I asked if he had told Peeta the situation? That he had to pretend to be desperately in love?
“Don’t have to. He’s already there.
How much better my life has been for knowing him. For loving him, even if it's only in the limited way that I can manage.
But I never get the chance.
I can't argue that Finnick isn't one of the most stunning, sensuous people on the planet.
But I can honestly say he's never been attractive to me. Maybe he's too pretty, or maybe he's too easy to get, or maybe it's really that he'd just be
too easy to lose.
I'd begun to think that he'd given up on me in the weeks that had passed. Or that he no longer cared about me. Hated me even. And the idea of losing him forever, my best friend, the only person I'd ever trusted with my secrets, was so painful I couldn't stand it.
Suzanne CollinsMutually counting on each other, watching each other's backs, forcing each other to be brave.
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