Words in Italics are not from Portia's point of view. oh, you know what I mean!

She was in a dimly lit cell; she had not eaten for three days. Her head ached and her vision was blurry. She was pretty sure that she had a concussion. She was not surprised. After all, she had been beaten repeatedly, in the head, many times.

The whole point of this torture, if there really was one, was to get her to tell them what the Rebellion's plans were. However, it was pointless. She did not know much, but what she did know, there was nothing in this world that could force her to reveal it.

There were times when the torture got really terrible, so terrible that she was tempted to tell what little she did know just to alleviate the pain for just a small moment. " The wedding dress designs are a coded message."

During these times, she conjured up a memory, a memory that was so powerful it could get her through anything. It was the memory of the night before the quell. The night that He told her about the code, showed her what it meant. Told her he loved her.

He had taken her aside, made sure that they were alone, and then taken out the gold sketchpad. It had seemed like every other planning meeting until he had said, his voice, hard, serious, and, for the first time since she had known him, afraid.

"Portia, pay attention. We don't have much time." He showed her the designs, walked her through the code in each one, and told her what the message meant, until she could repeat them to him.

The clock struck ten. As she turned to leave, he called out to her. "Wait Sweetheart." She turned around and began walking back toward him, and tripped over a bolt of bright orange fabric lying on the ground. She fell into his arms.

She remembered how it had felt then, in his arms. The warmth, the strength. The feel of his lips on hers.

When the kiss ended, she asked him, " Cinna , are you going to go away?" They both knew the meaning behind those words, the fear in them .

" I'm not planning on it Darling. Although I am in great danger. I love you . A lot!" He smiled at her and put his arm around her shoulders.

" Will you go to 13?"

The door was ajar, and a passing Peacekeeper caught these fatal words. He stood by the door, listening.

" Not until we can get Katniss and Peeta out of the arena, again safely , and spark the rebellion. You're my partner Portia, and I'm in need of your help, Love." He kissed her again, and she smiled.

" Yes Dear. I will help you. I love you. And our Kids!"

"Our TRIBUTES!" Cinna corrected her with a laugh. "Someday Sweetie, when all this is over, we'll marry. But not now, it is far too dangerous. Not now My Dear. Be patient." He kissed her again. She still got butterflies at the very thought of it.

" I can't wait!"

" Neither can I , I've always loved you , you know. Ever since Design school."

" Cinna," Portia broke in. She looked at him with sadness in her eyes and turned her face away.

"What's wrong Porsche? " He pulled her close to him, and she buried her face in his chest. She was crying. " It's alright Portia. Tell me."

" Cinna, do you, can you, truly love me?" Portia asked, her voice muffled by tears.

" Of course I do Darling. Why in the world would you need to ask?"

" Cinna, without all this make-up, I'm-"

" Truly, absolutely 100% perfect." Cinna broke in. " Portia, have you forgotten, I fell in love with YOU not the makeup. You are mine. My Portia. I love you. and I always will. Nothing can change that. "

" Not even death?"

" No, Portia. Not even death."

"I love you Cinna. I will love you forever."

" Always."

Smiling , the Peace Keeper marched away in the darkness toward his office. Pity, he thought. Pity he would have to break their hearts. He hated to see true love broken. But order must be kept, and rebellion stamped out! It was his duty.