[A week ago, he was her husband. She was his wife. They were comfortable and happy and lazy and content to lie in each others' arms.]
I don't think it now.
[It's so lame, to say something like that. But it's the point, if there is one. Part of him is saying it just to get her to stop. Because of everything he could possibly have imagined lurking in his future, none of it could have seemed so bad...except for this. His treasured memories of her, corrupted. The one truly sacred thing in his life.
As a kid, he used to think of her whenever things were bad at home. He liked to imagine being somewhere far away, where any wrong word or movement wouldn't set off an explosion, or a chain reaction leading to one. Home was so careful, so tense, but in the Seam there lived a beautiful girl with a voice that silenced the birds and the courage to go into the woods almost every day. The opposite of the quiet carefulness that ruled his home with an iron fist. To survive, Katniss had learned how to hunt, while Peeta had learned how to lie. Katniss never needed to be anything she wasn't.
But the lying hadn't really troubled him when it was necessary. It hadn't troubled him because he'd known the truth. He knew who he was. He held on to that internal truth like a lifeline to peace. It was all he had, in the end, that absolutely no one could take away from him. It was the one thing he knew, in all the chaos, that he could control.
no subject
I don't think it now.
[It's so lame, to say something like that. But it's the point, if there is one. Part of him is saying it just to get her to stop. Because of everything he could possibly have imagined lurking in his future, none of it could have seemed so bad...except for this. His treasured memories of her, corrupted. The one truly sacred thing in his life.
As a kid, he used to think of her whenever things were bad at home. He liked to imagine being somewhere far away, where any wrong word or movement wouldn't set off an explosion, or a chain reaction leading to one. Home was so careful, so tense, but in the Seam there lived a beautiful girl with a voice that silenced the birds and the courage to go into the woods almost every day. The opposite of the quiet carefulness that ruled his home with an iron fist. To survive, Katniss had learned how to hunt, while Peeta had learned how to lie. Katniss never needed to be anything she wasn't.
But the lying hadn't really troubled him when it was necessary. It hadn't troubled him because he'd known the truth. He knew who he was. He held on to that internal truth like a lifeline to peace. It was all he had, in the end, that absolutely no one could take away from him. It was the one thing he knew, in all the chaos, that he could control.
Not anymore.]
No. You were dreaming, Katniss.