What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it will be good again and only Peeta can give me this.
Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver. But one day I’ll have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won’t ever really go away.
We both know they have to have their victor.
“I thought he wanted it, anyway,” I say. “Not like this,” Haymitch says. “He wanted it to be real.”
“I raise my left arm and twist my neck down to rip off the pill on my sleeve. Instead my teeth sink into flesh. I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta’s eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock.”
I don’t want to lose the boy with the bread.
Katniss, I remember about the bread.