this is an add on to mockingjay, when Peeta is being guarded throughout the night at the resting site. He says he can't figure out whats real. Finnick says, 'then you should ask, peeta. its what annie does.' which is the beginnings of the questions and the game 'real or not real.' You'll recognize most of this passage from the book. I decided just to add a little bit to it, because I really loved the passage but I had wished there was more. you can imagine that maybe the other soldiers and crew maybe arent awake for this conversation, because Katniss probably wouldn't have said as much if she thought they were all listening.

I do not own Hunger Games or this passage from the Mockingjay. All rights to Suzanne Collins.

I try to imagine not being able to tell illusion from reality. Not knowing if Prim or my mother loved me. If Snow was my enemy. If the person across the heater saved or sacrificed me. With very little effort, my life rapidly morphs into a nightmare. I suddenly want to tell Peeta everything about who he is, and who I am, and how we ended up here. But I don't know how to start. Worthless. I'm worthless.

At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again."Your favorite color...it's green?"

"That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange."

"Orange?" He seems unconvinced.

"Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that't what you told me once."

"Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head."Thank you."

But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot you shoelaces."

It seems I can't stop myself as I continue. "You love hot chocolate and you never burn your bread. You always knew the right words to say. People just like you immediately. After you saved my life with bread many years ago, the next day I looked across the school yard at you, wanting to say thank you and not knowing how. I looked down and saw a dandelion that gave me hope. I've never been able to really separate you and dandelions since. During training at our first games, you made a joke that maybe the arena would be a huge cake. For the Quell, you painted a picture of Rue adorned in flowers for the Gamemakers, and I was never more proud of you. You were my hero that day for being so bold. We fell asleep together many times in my room on tour and in preparation for the Quell, and it was the safest I felt. You loved me so much, and I didn't deserve it."

Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.