"Later, there’s a lot of kissing. Didn’t seem very genuine on your part. Did you like kissing me?" He asks.
“Sometimes,” I admit. “You know people are watching us now?”
“I know. What about Gale?” he continues.
My anger’s returning. I don’t care about his recovery- this isn’t the business of the people behind the glass. “He’s not a bad kisser either,” I say shortly.
“And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?” he asks.
“No. It wasn’t okay with either of you. But I wasn’t asking your permission,” I tell him.
Peeta laughs again, coldly, dismissively. “Well, you’re a piece of work, aren’t you?”
By the time we reach the town square, afternoon’s sinking into evening. I take Cressida to the rubble of the bakery and ask her to film something. The only emotion I can muster is exhaustion. “Peeta, this is your home. None of your family has been heard if since the bombing. Twelve is gone. And you’re calling for a cease-fire?” I look across the emptiness. “There’s no one left to hear you.”
I think of Gale, who is only really alive in the woods, with its fresh air and sunlight and clean, flowing water. I don’t know how he stands it. Well… yes, I do. He stands it because it’s the way to feed his mother and two younger brothers and sister.
I just realized that when Mockingjay premiers at midnight the audience will also be meeting Peeta at midnight with katniss too.
"Back in the arena. Back in the place of nightmares. That’s where I am going. I have to admit I didn’t see it coming. I saw a multitude of other things. Being publicly humiliated, tortured, and executed. Fleeing through the wilderness, pursued by Peacekeepers and hovercraft. Marriage to Peeta with our children forced into the arena. But never that I myself would have to be a player in the Games again. Why? Because there’s no precedent for it. Victors are out of the reaping for life. That’s the deal if you win. Until now.”
“I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.”
I go forward, wondering about Finnick, who saved old Mags but will let her eat strange nuts. Who Haymitch has stamped with his seal of approval. Who brought Peeta back from the dead. Why didn’t he just let him die? He would have been blameless. I never would have guessed it was in his power to revive him. Why could he possible have wanted to save Peeta? And why was he so determined to team up with me? Willing to kill me, too, if it comes to that. But leaving the choice of if we fight to me.
- Catching Fire p.285-286