Katniss, The Girl Who Was On Fire!

Want A Sugar Cube?" He Asks In His Old Seductive Voice. That's How We Met, With Finnick Offering Me Sugar. Surrounded By Horses And Chariots, Costumed And Painted For The Crowds, Before We Were Allies. Before I Had Any Idea What Made Him Tick. The Memory Actually Coaxes A Smile Out Of Me. "here, It Improves The Taste," He Says In His Real Voice, Plunking Three Cubes Into My Cup.

Despite What I Feel For Peeta, This Is When I Accept Deep Down That He'll Never Come Back To Me. Or I'll Never Go Back To Him. I'll Die For My Trouble. And He'll Die Insane And Hating Me.

Yeah, We Wouldn't Want To Lose Our Little Mockingjay When She's Finally Begun To Sing.

We Have To Joke About It Because The Alternative Is To Be Scared

What Do You Think?" He Asks. "i Hate Them," I Say. I Can Almost Smell The Blood, The Dirt, The Unnatural Breath Of The Mutt. "all I Do Is Go Around Trying To Forget The Arena And You've Brought It Back To Life. How Do You Remember These Things So Exactly?" "i See Them Every Night," He Says.