She tasted like imminent death.
Lime and salt and sugar cubes melting on your tongue. Like she was coaxing her into the grave. It would be worth it, Effie thinks. I'd die for her.
She's sorry that she doesn't have the choice.
x
She tasted like salvation.
Red wine and good bread and traces of vanilla. It wouldn't be enough to save her, Katniss knew. But if she closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall headfirst into the kiss, she could pretend.
She is under lock and key in Effie's arms.
x
She could lose her. It's a realization Effie should've made days ago, when this fucked-up dance began. She's escorting her to a fight to the death, for god's sake. But Katniss is so brave and strong and impervious, it seems ridiculous to think she could possibly lose. Her courage is evident even when she lets her guard down: it shows in her kisses, her whispers, her touch.
Effie's movements take on a sense of urgency. Tonight is all she can count on. She can hope, but there's no guarantee that it will outweigh the fear. She tries to shut off her brain, let her fingers convey her terror and her kisses hint at cautious optimism. Come on, now. You can do it.
She almost laughs at the double meaning.
x
Katniss memorizes everything. The softness of Effie's curls that frame her face, grateful to not be wound so tightly anymore. The delicious prick of teeth at her collarbone. The tangible electricity that flows between the two of them.
She sighs and imagines a world where this could work. Because it can't in this one, not even if she wins. It'd be a scandal, far too big a risk for either one of them to take.
"Wouldn't it be lovely," she murmurs- because what's the point in keeping it to herself? She's going to die- "if we could continue this?'
x
Effie smiles sadly, but there's a tinge of reverie to it.
Maybe, just maybe, President Snow is right. Maybe just for tonight, the hope can drown out the fear.