He gasps, struggling for air, and falls into my lap. "Cole!" I shriek, holding his head in my lap.

"I'm..." His voice is raspy, and I know he's having trouble breathing. "...fine."

Tears are already leaking onto my cheeks, and I try to help him. He shakes me off. "Don't." He says. "You're meant to win."

I sniffle, and hold his hand tightly. It's getting dark.

"I always had a crush on you, you know." Cole says. I look down at him, not replying. "Since we were little. I can remember you and Peeta drawing with chalks on the pavement, and wanting to join in, but..." he shakes his head and gives me a weak smile.

I don't know what to say. Seemingly I've been good at comforting the dying, but all thoughts of speech are gone. I deicde to make him as happy as I can possibly make him in these last few minutes, even if I am lying.

"I always liked you too." I murmured back. "The first time I realised was when were in school, and I spilled my dinner, remember? And you gave me half of yours because I didn't have the money for any more. You were so lovely to me." I smile.

"You - You did?" Cole asked, a cough breaking his sentence. "What about Gale?"

I smile, and brush the hair out of his face. It's taking everything I have not to cry. "Nothing. Gale's my friend."

Cole frowned, as if this confused him, and another cough rattled his body. I sueeze my eyes tight shut, and decide on what I should do. I lean down, quickly, before I can back out, and press my lips to Cole's.

He flinches, stunned, and then kisses me back. His lips are soft, though they've been parched of water for days, but they're cold. Colder than they should be. I kiss him harder, trying to urge him to cling on.

It must be well into night time now, and I decide that we should sleep. Cole looks at me as if I'm mad, but he doesn't object. Especially not when I nestle myelf between his arm, and his shoulder, resting my head on his chest.

"You always had a beautiful voice." He murmurs. "Sing for me?"

"What should I sing?" I reply.

He thinks for a moment. "Sing The Meadow Song."

I clear my throat, and begin.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes

And when again they open, the sun will rise."

Cole smiles, I smile I've only ever seen a few times in my life, and one I'm sure I've never experienced before - pure bliss. I pause, and his smile lessens slightly, so I carry on,

"Here it s safe, here it s warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you."

"Delly?" Cole murmurs, his voice barely audible.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Find Gale." He says. "Be happy. I love you."

A tears slides down my cheek. "I love you too." I reply, trying not to let the tears effect my voice. I carry on singing,

"Deep in the meadow, hidden far away

A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray

Forget your woes and let your troubles lay

And when again it s morning, they ll wash away.

Here it s safe, here it s warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you."

Cole's body shudders, and I grip him tighter, feeling his body become completely still. The canon sounds.

"We have this year's victor," Claudius Templesmith announced. "Dahlia Cartwright!"

I sit up, looking at nothing but Cole. Tears stream down my face at an alarming rate, and I choke out a sob. "Cole." I croak. "Cole!" I sob uncontrollably, not exactly the thing you want to see from a victor. I press my forehead to his chest, clinging to his shirt. "Cole." I sob into his shirt. I hear a metallic noise from above me, and see the hovercraft landing. Two peacekeeprs get out, and march to the Cornucopia.

"Come down." One of them orders.

I ignore them, and turn back to Cole, my body shaking with sobs.

I am being dragged from the top of the Cornucopia, kicking and screaming by the Peacekeepers, screaming "Cole!" As loud as I can. I look for him sitting up, looking at me with his dark grey eyes or running his hand through his brown hair, but I see nothing. He doesn't move. So I allow myelf to be dragged into the hovercraft, still sobbing and wailing, about to be taken off to the Capitol, to be crowned as Dahlia Cartwright, victor of the 76th Annual Hunger games.