Peeta's awake already, sitting on the side of the bed, looking bewildered as the trio of doctors reassure him, flash lights in his eyes, checks his pules. I'm disappointed that mine was not the first face he saw when he woke up, but he sees it now. His features registrer disbelief and something more intense that I can't quite place. Desire? Desperation? Surely both, for he sweeps the doctors aside, leaps to his feets and moves towards me. I run to meet him, my arms extended to embrace him. His hands are reaching for mine too, to caress my face, I think.
My lips are forming his name when his fingers lock around my throat.
Mots clés katniss peeta hunger-games meeting mockingjay suffocate
You have a... remarkable memory."
"I remember everything about you. You're the one who wasn't paying attention.
At the moment, the choice would be simple. I can survive just fine without either of them.
Suzanne CollinsMots clés katniss suzanne-collins mockingjay
The question is, what are you going to do?"
It turns out the question that's been eating away at me has only ever had one possible answer. But it took Peeta's ploy for me to recognize it.
What am I going to do?
I take a deep breath. My arms rise slightly - as if recalling the black-and-white wings Cinna gave me - then come to rest at my sides.
"I'm going to be the Mockingjay.
Mots clés katniss the-hunger-games gale mockingjay
At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. "Your favorite colour . . . it's green?"
"That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange."
"Orange?" He seems unconvinced.
"Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once."
"Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you."
But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces."
Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.
Mots clés katniss peeta peeta-mellark katniss-and-peeta
Not like this. He wanted it to be real.
Suzanne CollinsMots clés love marriage proposal fake katniss peeta haymitch
You never know. Say the arena's actually a giant cake-"
"Say we move on," I broke in.
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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.
Suzanne CollinsMots clés katniss the-hunger-games catching-fire gale
All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly. And I hate him for it.
Suzanne CollinsMots clés katniss the-hunger-games peeta mockingjay
We could do it, you know," Gale says quietly.
"What?" I ask.
"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," says Gale.
I don't know how to respond. This idea is so preposterous.
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