He looks at the berries in my hands, and then back at me.
"Katniss?" He asks in disbelief. He looks too sweet to be here, he doesn't deserve to die. Not like me. I have nothing to live for.
"Peeta," I say quietly. "Trust me. It will be fine." His hand is latched on to my free one, and he reaches up and takes a handful of berries. The violet juice stains the tips of his pale, supple fingers.
He looks into my grey eyes with his blue ones. "I love you," he says quietly.
"I know," I say, and considering we're about to die, it's not the best answer.
"On three?"
I nod.
"One…" he starts.
"Two…" I say.
"Three…" we say together. I push the berries between my lips. They are sweet, but in an evil way. So many thoughts swarm through my mind. So many, in fact, I forget the boy holding my hand and giving me strength. His hand goes limp, and as he fall to the ground a cannon rings through the air. I will miss Prim, Gale, and maybe even my mother. But despite that fact, I will forever be Katniss: the girl who birds stopped to hear, the girl who beat all the odds.
I will forever be the girl who beat the Capitol.