“ Let me go!” I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp. “I can’t,” he says. ”
You love me. Real or not real?I tell him, Real.
~ Suzanne Collins
What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.
I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, 'So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?' I turn into him. 'Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.
And then he gives me a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.
