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I lie in the bed, the covers are warm and Jet's arm is around me. I feel safe.

"How did you find me?"

"I saw you step inside." He laughs.

"You scared me to death." I hit his arm.

He smiles and looks into my eyes.

"Have you killed anyone?" I ask.

"Yes."

"How many?"

"3" His face turns "The girl from 3,the boy and girl from 11, all in the bloodbath."

"Do you feel guilty?"

"I killed innocent kids' lives, what else would I be thinking." His face crumples. "It's a fucking joke."

We lay there in silence, I can hear the trees outside swishing in the wind.

Without any notice Jet gets up and goes to the window, he stands there. Transfixed.

5 minutes

10 minutes

I get up and go to the window, the moon is beautiful, it's full and shining so brightly. If we weren't in the area I would love to live here. It's quiet and peaceful and I look at his face.

His eyes are staring outside, I reach for his hand, and it's cold and hostile. He doesn't object, he holds it tightly and continues to look.

"What if we were somewhere else?" He says "What if we were different people, I never would have met you." He turns and looks at me, I stare into his eyes the refection of the moons shines back at me. "Karis Mellark, I am really glad that I met you."

He grabs my neck and this time I know it's for real.

He kisses me and I kiss back, It feels like summer itself, it's special and warm and you want it to last forever.

He steps back and smiles, I reach into my bag and pull out a love heart. I reach for Jets hand, close it and position it against his heart.

He opens it and the candy reads 'Wicked' He gives a laugh "How retro."

"It was random." I blush "How was I supposed to know."

He holds my hand and pulls me towards the bed, "You are wicked." He smiles.

I walk to the bathroom and apply more medicine onto my ankle, the flesh around the bone had scabbed and it's so much easier to walk now. What wonderful things the capitol makes.

I bring the pot out. Jet is sitting in bed writing. Writing what. I cough and he looks round, he quickly stuffs the paper into his bag and he relaxes on top of the sheets.

"Take your top off."

"Already?" He smirks.

I hold out the pot of medicine and he removes his shirt. The wound is staring me in the face, the flesh is torn, the blisters are huge and the blood is a dark red. I take a breath and scoop out the gel. I touch his chest and he winces.

"Does it hurt?"

"A bit." He bites his lip.

I spread it all over his chest, coating the flesh in medicine.

He leans forward and kisses me again, I wipe my hand on his face, and he leans back and laughs.

"Wicked." He smiles.

We resume our places in bed, his arm around mine. The darkness scares me but now I am in the arms of someone who, who, I can't describe it.

I look at the side of his face, the curl of his hair to the bump in his nose.

I can't describe him.