[He doesn't say anything. She can't blame him for that. That he's even still here is some kind of miracle. She would've fled. Would have run to hide in the library. Or to stalk prey in the woods. Just like she did yesterday upon waking. Incapable of handling what had happened. Incapable of lying peacefully next to Peeta in bed.
And now it's so different. Now rather than slumbering contently, he sits there with that haunted look that isn't so different from the tortured boy she had left in District Twelve. But he isn't that tortured boy yet. The broken, hijacked boy. Hadn't been, anyway, until she had told him his future.
She's not so used to this. Being the one to comfort him. But slowly, cautiously, she extends her hand.]
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And now it's so different. Now rather than slumbering contently, he sits there with that haunted look that isn't so different from the tortured boy she had left in District Twelve. But he isn't that tortured boy yet. The broken, hijacked boy. Hadn't been, anyway, until she had told him his future.
She's not so used to this. Being the one to comfort him. But slowly, cautiously, she extends her hand.]