Oh, Peeta, Don't Make Me Sorry I

Because I'm Selfish. I'm A Coward. I'm The Kind Of Girl Who, When She Might Actually Be Of Use, Would Run To Stay Alive And Leave Those Who Couldn't Follow To Suffer And Die.

I Am Not Pretty. I Am Not Beautiful. I Am As Radiant As The Sun.

Because I Can't Handle The Nightmares. Not Without You.

It Starts At Midnight.

Peeta, How Come I Never Know When You're Having A Nightmare?” I Say. “i Don't Know. I Don't Think I Cry Out Or Thrash Around Or Anything. I Just Come To, Paralyzed With Terror,” He Says. “you Should Wake Me,” I Say, Thinking About How I Can Interrupt His Sleep Two Or Three Times On A Bad Night. About How Long It Can Take To Calm Me Down. “it's Not Necessary. My Nightmares Are Usually About Losing You,” He Says. “i'm Okay Once I Realize You're Here.