"Katniss," a voice says melodically. Hot breath tickles my ear. "Katniss. Wake up."
My eyelids fly open and I sit up abruptly. Peeta is wound around me, like a viper, his eyes staring straight into mine. They are beautiful eyes, and at the present moment, they're looking at me like I'm the only person in the world.
"I'm sorry," I mumble, untangling myself. "I shut my eyes for a second."
"Almost an hour, actually," Peeta responds. "It's okay. I kept watch."
The events of the day come flooding back. The fight in the Cornucopia. The deaths of Marvel, Foxface and Cato. The death of someone else - someone unknown. Thresh, Glimmer or Prue. One of them would be in the sky tonight.
We'd spent hours searching for Prim. I'd climbed countless trees, trying to be light and limber like Rue, keeping an eye out from above, but the arena was as silent as death. Eventually, Peeta had convinced me to retire for the day, but the waiting was torture. Waiting to see the mysterious fourth face that would be in the sky was making me feel physically ill, and I'd barely been able to choke down a dinner of tree roots.
"Do you want to close your eyes for a while?" I ask.
"Not really," Peeta whispers as I lean back against him. "The song will play any second."
"I'll wake you up when it plays," I promise.
Peeta shakes his head, his fingers entwined in my braid. "I don't want to close my eyes when the only thing I want to dream about is right in front of me in real life," he says softly. My stomach does a little flip, and I don't really know how to reply. A pregnant pause passes, and he clears his throat. "What do you think was in our pack?"
I shrug, grateful for his stab at normal conversation. "I assumed something mediocre," I say. "Food, water, medicine."
"Our supply of that is pretty decent though," he objects. "I don't know. Can they direct the pack at just one person?"
"I guess they could," I answer. "But that's stupid, isn't it? What is there that one of us need that the other one doesn't?"
Peeta doesn't answer me; instead, I feel my shoulders shift as he cocks his head to one side and sits up a little straighter. The music is playing. The anthem.
We both scramble over to the cave opening on our hands and knees, forgetting to remain silent. Our faces pressed together, cheek-to-cheek, we look up at the nights sky, dotted with stars and the Capitol crest.
It begins.
The first face in the sky is Marvel. I can feel the both of us holding our breath, and Peeta grapples in the dark for my hand. He squeezes it tightly, just as much for his benefit as my own. My heart is caught in my throat as I watch Marvel's face, haughty and proud, hovering above the arena. It dissolves into the inky black, and is replaced with Cato's. He sneers at me from his position, and I feel a savage pull of emotion somewhere in my chest. Look at us now, Cato, I think. Look who has survived. His sneer is cut off abruptly by the projector, and immediately the clever smirk belonging to Foxface stretches across the stars.
"Glimmer is still out there," Peeta mutters. I nod mutely, having jumped to the same conclusion myself. I can't tear my eyes away from Foxface. Who are her family? Who will miss her? And - I feel tears burning the back of my eyelids as I realise this - what was her real name? How did I never bother to learn her name? I watched this girl die. I watched her lying on the ground, crying, paralysed, bleeding out slowly. I've been through so much with this girl, and I never bothered to know her name.
Peeta brings me back to earth by almost cutting off the blood supply in my hand. Foxface disappears. The new face appears, the face that I had been dreading seeing all afternoon. Peeta gasps - he was clearly expecting to see something different. I choke back a gasp as well, but for a different reason. I'm relieved.
Thresh's photo is magnificent - he looks menacing and absolutely lethal. He stares straight into my soul, and I feel as if he's asking me why he died and why I'm still alive. I can't answer him.
The song ends. The sky returns to the blanket of black and navy.
"She's still alive, Peeta," I say.
"I know," Peeta answers.
"Is it wrong that I'm happy?" I ask, conflicted. "Thresh is dead. But I feel more happiness than I do sadness."
"You didn't know Thresh," Peeta tries to mollify me.
"He gave Prim and I bread," I reply. "He threw us a loaf one night when we were in the field. He knew we were there. He could have killed us, but instead, he stayed where he was and gave us food." I shake my head.
"He was a good guy." Peeta shuffles back to the back of the cave and stretches out onto his stomach. I move towards him and mimic his body position, so that we're both lying on our stomachs with our faces turned in towards each other. "I wonder how Glimmer did it."
"I don't know, but I'm glad that none of us had to," I answer.
Peeta nods. We stare at each other for a couple of seconds.
"What are we going to do if it comes down to us three?" he whispers. "Katniss... I've just finally gotten you. I can't... I can't lose you."
"Don't think about it," I whisper back. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Just don't think about it."
"What am I supposed to think about?" he asks me.
I'm thinking on my feet, trying to respond the way I know Haymitch would want me to. "Think... think about being back in District 12," I answer. "You and me." I move closer. "We're in the Hob, and I'm teaching you the best places to buy and who to trade with."
"What am I teaching you?" he says.
I make a face, and he laughs, scooting so close to me that our faces are almost touching. His hand snakes over my waist and they rest on my back. "You're ... you're teaching me to be more likeable?"
He laughs softly. "Katniss, I couldn't like you more if I tried."
He kisses me. It's heaven. For once, I don't think of Gale. I think of my mother and my father, and I wonder if this is love, the kind of love they shared. I know I'd be devastated if I lost Peeta.
But he was right. The three of us couldn't win. We would be the last three standing, there was no doubt about that. I would make sure of it. But we couldn't all leave this arena alive. I couldn't ask Peeta to die with me, to make Prim the victor of the 74th Hunger Games. I could never ask something like that of him. Not because I was scared that he would say no, but because I was sure he'd agree. I couldn't have his blood on my hands. I didn't want him to die.
But I was determined for Prim to live as well.