Always
Catching Fire.
“Don't go yet. Not until I fall asleep,” I say.
Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Almost thought you'd
changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner.”
I'm foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late
and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I'd made a run for it, maybe with Gale.
“No, I'd have told you,” I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it,
taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today. I
want to tell him about Twill and Bonnie and the uprising and the fantasy of District 13, but it's not safe to and I can feel myself slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence.
“Stay with me.”
As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don't
quite catch it.
Mockingjay
“Always.”
When I finally begin to surface into the sterile hospital room in 13, I remember. I was under the influence
of sleep syrup. My heel had been injured after I’d climbed out on a branch over the electric fence and
dropped back into 12. Peeta had put me to bed and I had asked him to stay with me as I was drifting
off. He had whispered something I couldn’t quite catch. But some part of my brain had trapped his single
word of reply and let it swim up through my dreams to taunt me now.“Always.”
“Don't go yet. Not until I fall asleep,” I say.
Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Almost thought you'd
changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner.”
I'm foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late
and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I'd made a run for it, maybe with Gale.
“No, I'd have told you,” I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it,
taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today. I
want to tell him about Twill and Bonnie and the uprising and the fantasy of District 13, but it's not safe to and I can feel myself slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence.
“Stay with me.”
As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don't
quite catch it.
Mockingjay
“Always.”
In the twilight of morphling, Peeta whispers the word and I go searching for him. It’s a gauzy,
violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. I push through cloud banks, follow faint
tracks, catch the scent of cinnamon, of dill. Once I feel his hand on my cheek and try to trap it, but it
dissolves like mist through my fingers.
When I finally begin to surface into the sterile hospital room in 13, I remember. I was under the influence
of sleep syrup. My heel had been injured after I’d climbed out on a branch over the electric fence and
dropped back into 12. Peeta had put me to bed and I had asked him to stay with me as I was drifting
off. He had whispered something I couldn’t quite catch. But some part of my brain had trapped his single
word of reply and let it swim up through my dreams to taunt me now.“Always.”
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