Catching Fire

When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight into them. It's the first time since they announced the Quarter Quell that he's offered me any sort of affection. He's been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend.

Finnick, the handsome bronze-haired guy from District 4 who was crowned ten years ago at the age of fourteen.

“Effie's sending me recordings of all the living victors. We're going to watch their Games and learn everything we can about how they fight. We're going to put on weight and get strong. We're going to start acting like Careers. And one of us is going to be victor again whether you two like it or not!” He sweeps out of the room, slamming the front door

I don't know what I expected from my first meeting with Peeta after the announcement. A few hugs and kisses. A little comfort maybe. Not this

Peeta comes to the table and opens the candy bag. “Ooh, peppermints,” he says, popping one in his mouth

“The slag heap next to the east entrance,” says Prim patiently.
“No. When did you say that?” I demand. “Last night,” Haymitch chimes in.
“It was definitely the east,” adds Peeta. He looks at Haymitch and they laugh. I glare at Peeta and he tries to look contrite. “I'm sorry, but it's what I've been saying. You don't listen when people talk to you.”

You've seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.”

No matter what I do, I'm hurting someone

Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable.

My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.”