I Had To Do That. At Least

Something Small And Quiet, Like A Match Being Struck, Lights Up The Gloom Inside Of Me.

You're Alive," I Whisper, Pressing My Palms Against My Cheeks, Feeling The Smile That's So Wide It Must Look Like A Grimace. Peeta's Alive.

The Berries. I Realize The Answer To Who I Am Lies In That Handful Of Poisonous Fruit. If I Held Them Out To Save Peeta Because I Knew I Would Be Shunned If I Came Back Without Him, Then I Am Despicable. If I Held Them Out Because I Loved Him, I Am Still Self-centered, Although Forgivable. But If I Held Them Out To Defy The Capitol, I Am Someone Of Worth. The Trouble Is, I Don't Know Exactly What Was Going On Inside Me At That Moment.

I Go Back To My Room And Lie Under The Covers, Trying Not To Think Of Gale And Thinking Of Nothing Else.

I Reach Out To Touch His Cheek And He Catches My Hand And Presses It Against His Lips.