He was kind, always doing the right thing. She watched him with a strange mixture of scorn and admiration. And pondered, if she was raised, fed and clothed without having to sneak out hunting, would she be kind too?
Maybe
If she didn't have to concern herself with feeding her mother and sister, if she wasn't wracked with grief over her father's departure, would she do the right thing?
Maybe.
If every breath she took wasn't on borrowed time, if her very existance wasn't threatened by the harsh result of human nature, would she be able to look him in the eye and not remember that he saved her life? Would she be able to call him a friend?
Maybe.
If she wasn't so afraid of loss, of losing her children to the Hunger Games, would she love him? Would she want to spend her life with him?
Most definatly.
But ifs and maybes help no one, in the situation she was in, the main question was, could she ever hate Peeta Mellark?
And the answer was a set in stone:
Never.