Catching Fire

“Katniss, when you're in the arena,” he begins. Then he pauses. He's scowling in a way that makes me sure I've already disappointed him.
“What?” I ask defensively.
“You just remember who the enemy is,” Haymitch tells me. “That's all. Now go on. Get out of here.”

We walk down the hallway.
Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the makeup and meet me in a few minutes, but I won't let him. I'm certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I'll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand.

Do we sleep? I don't know. We spend the night holding each other, in some halfway land
between dreams and waking. Not talking. Both afraid to disturb the other in the hope that
we'll be able to store up a few precious minutes of rest.

Cinna and Portia arrive with the dawn, and I know Peeta will have to go. Tributes enter the
arena alone.
He gives me a light kiss. “See you soon,” he says. “See you soon,” I answer.