Hi! I hope you enjoy. I'm on tumblr (where I post sneak peeks and ask your opinion on the next chapters) as waywardangel-wilds. I'm also on AO3 as CassandraO (I have more fics there)

I stood still. We were asked to wait a moment just outside the train door for the cameras to capitalize on the last available shot of us before we entered the tribute train. The flashing lights were blinding enough that I wondered if any of the photographs would even be usable. I must have been clenching my eyes shut the entire time.

If I thought the room in the Justice Building had been expensive, the tribute train more than blew it out of the water. It was awash in crystal chandeliers that didn't swing despite the speed of the vehicle, polished dark wood surfaces, and plush carpets that gave me the overwhelming urge to pull off my shoes.

Once aboard, Effie guided Peeta and I down a hall, motioning to two doorways.

"These are the tribute quarters." She pushed open the door. "One bedroom, bathroom and dressing room each."

She smiled as she told us to wash up and get dressed for supper. Everything in the rooms was at our disposal, and we should take the time to enjoy it. I didn't doubt that my dark mood was visible on my face because she scurried away from me rather quickly.

I didn't spare Peeta a second glance, knowing him as I did, I could predict his intentions. I tried to run into on of the rooms before he could catch me, but it was useless. He slipped in behind me and pushed the door closed with his back.

"Katniss—" he said and by that tone I knew I didn't want to hear it. I could feel it coming, like a tempest. Unstoppable and devastating.

"No, don't." I shook my head and turned my face away from him. I stood in the middle of the room, my eyes searching for a closet or doorway I could close in between us so I could be alone, but there was no escaping him when he was determined.

"I have to," he whispered, and I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm sorry."

"You're not," I fired back, crossing my arms. I was already crying. "Not at all."

"I'm sorry about leaving Prim, and about hurting you." He said. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. "But I'm not sorry about being here with you."

I nodded; I already knew. "I hate you."

"You don't." But we both knew that. "I might be dead in two weeks."

There he went. "Don't say that don't, not now."

"I have to," he insisted again. "I have to."

I looked at him.

"Katniss, I love you." He looked at me like it hurt. His face started to get blurry from my tears.

"I know," I nodded because of course I did. Why else would he do what he did?

"I had to tell you. I'm sorry." He stepped towards me. "I don't want to be fighting with you."

I rubbed my eyes. "I'm sorry I hit you."

"It's okay," He touched my shoulder, but I shook him off.

"No, it wasn't." I insisted, "I shouldn't have done it."

"I forgive you," he reached for my shoulder again and I let him.

"I wish you wouldn't," I grumbled allowing him to pull me into a hug. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. My voice was shaky when I spoke again. "I love you too."

"I know," he said against my head. "That's why you were angry."

I hiccupped hard from a sob. "I won't be able to do this," I lamented into the privacy of his clavicle.

He squeezed me tight. There were no words he could say that would make me feel better. Nothing that involved him dying could.

"Maybe you should get dressed for dinner," he encouraged rubbing his hands up and down my back. "You barely ate at home."

I sniffled and rubbed the snot off my face with the back of my wrist. "I like my dress." I protested. "And I don't want anything from this place."

He dropped his head down to press his nose against the side of my head, his lips coming to rest on the very end of my jaw. "Please, eat something, for me?"

I closed my eyes briefly. Warmth radiated from the spot where his lips touched me, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It felt so good, so impossibly good, that I knew I would do anything he asked.

"Okay," I agreed and pressed the side of my face into his.

He leaned back and I immediately missed him. He reached up to rub the tears off my face with his thumbs, I smiled when I looked at him.

"I'm a wreck, huh?" but he shook his head.

"You're the most beautiful girl in the world." He said it simply, like it was a fact, and gave me a kiss.

We found our own way into the dining car. The room was made up of polished paneled walls and furnished with a large, shining dining table, high-backed chairs, and highly breakable dishware.

But the food.

There was food practically overflowing off the table. Shiny, juicy fruit, most of which I'd never tasted before. Round, plump, thin-skinned grapes just begging to be eaten. Polished apples, fragrant, cut oranges, tempting, glistening sliced melon. I'd never had a grape before, so I happily turned them into my first victims.

Peeta pulled out a chair and motioned to it when I just stood by the table pushing grapes past my lips. I sat down. He did the same in the chair next to me. For all his cajoling, he made no move to eat anything himself. I frowned at him and broke the stem of the grapes I was eating, handing him half.

"Try this," I said pushing them into his hand. "If I'm eating, you're eating."

"Now, now children. Don't spoil your dinner." Effie Trinkett said as she entered the room. She'd changed her outfit and wig. Peeta and I remained in our original outfits. "There's plenty more to come." She said as she sat down in the seat across from us.

Peeta popped a grape into his mouth and gave me the side glance he always did when we were around people and he couldn't tell me what he thought of them freely. I knocked my foot lightly against his, smiling faintly, because I was glad to not be the only one who thought so.

Effie picked up a cloth napkin and lay it out across her lap. "Where's Haymitch?"

I looked up from my dedicated study of my fruit. Peeta and I glanced at each other.

"I don't know," Peeta shrugged. "Place was empty when we came in."

"Hmph," Effie shook her head, vertical glittering ringlets swaying with her. "I suppose he must be exhausted."

"Yes, very." I found myself saying. I caught sight of Peeta's downturned lip in my peripheral. He was trying to hold back a smile or a laugh.

Attendants appeared, carrying our dinner in courses. We started off with a pale green soup that tasted like nothing I'd ever had. It was grainy too, perhaps pea?

"Earlier," Effie said after we'd been eating for some time. "You said you were married?"

I swallowed the soup in my mouth. "Yes. We are." I answered. "In May."

"Newlyweds then." Effie laid her spoon down in her empty bowl. An attendant promptly took the dish away. "I had no idea people in the Districts wed so early."

"We're an unusual case," Peeta said, his lips twisted into a charming smile. "We were very excited to be together, you see."

I hovered my hands away from the table when an attendant reached for my dish, surprising me. I wouldn't say we were excited to get married. It just sort of happened. But I guess Effie didn't need to know the inner workings of our life.

"You must feel awful about having to cut it so short," Effie said in what I could almost mistake for sympathy.

"It's unfortunate," Peeta agreed. "I guess the odds weren't in our favour."

Attendants re-entered the room to place the next course in front of us. Lamb chops and mashed potatoes, I happily picked up my knife and fork.

"Well, coming to the Capitol will be a special treat then. A honeymoon." Effie said with her eyes on her meal, cutting a dainty morsel of lamb.

My eyes slowly rolled up to glare at her, Peeta pinched my leg under the table, I turned my sharp gaze toward him.

Stop it, his eyes told me. I rolled mine and went back to eating.

We were quiet, although there were lots of things I wanted to say. Peeta was probably right, but Effie's wig looked so idiotic, somebody should say something. Somebody like… me. Whatever, the food was prime.

"At least you two have decent table manners," Effie said as we were finishing the meal. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

I dropped my knife and fork with a clatter. Effie's eyes landed on me in surprise.

"Oops," I said with a pout. I picked up my lamb with both hands and took an abnormally large bite, juices running down my chin. "Have some potatoes, honey, they're delicious." The nickname was completely out of character and something I would never actually use, but I wasn't aiming for accuracy. I scooped up some potatoes with my fingers and offered them to Peeta. He rolled his eyes but finished what was left of his lamb without his utensils.

I wiped my fingers and mouth on the tablecloth, watching with more than a little satisfaction as Effie pursed her lips disapprovingly.

The meal continued on in silence. A plate of cheese and fruit was placed in front of us, followed by a slice of chocolate cake at the end, both of which I consumed without utensils. Peeta gave up after the cheese, picking up a spoon for the cake. By the last bite, I was struggling to keep the food down. I gulped a glass of water, turning to look at Peeta who appeared to be struggling too.

"Come, come." Effie said reluctantly, "It's time for the recaps."

We were shepherded into another compartment to watch the national broadcast. I sat next to Peeta with a groan. He leaned his head back against the sofa. I patted his rounded stomach.

"No," he moaned. "It'll just come right back up."

"It takes a little time to get used to the food," Effie said from across the room. "Every tribute has an adjustment period."

We didn't respond. I kept my eyes on the broadcast, keeping tabs on the tributes that alarmed me the most. Which one would be the one to kill me? Which one would I kill? That line of thought wasn't good for my stomach.

I was sizing up the vicious-looking boy from District Two when the sliding door to our compartment crashed open.

"Hey, hey, hey, " I turned my head towards the doorway as Haymitch stumbled through with a chuckle. He was still piss drunk. I frowned at him.

Our eyes followed as Haymitch sloppily crashed into the minibar at the far left of the room. He selected a bottle at random and pulled the cork off with his teeth. "Trinket," he used the neck of the bottle to salute her. Effie scoffed and crossed her arms. Haymitch took a long drink with a smirk.

"Charming," I muttered softly for Peeta's ears. At least that's what I was aiming for.

"Yup," Haymitch's eyes landed on me. He was still smirking, lips pulling open to say something else when his eyes landed on Peeta. Quickly, his expression dropped, and he looked alarmingly sober.

"Graham?" He blinked, serious. "Fuck, where am I?"

Peeta looked confused. "Who?" He paused. "Wait. Did you know my uncle Graham?"

"Fuck. This." Haymitch dropped the bottle back on the bar and pushed himself away from it. "Not today." He stumbled out of the room.

"Huh." Peeta turned to me. "I wonder what that was about."

"He's useless," I scoffed. "Who cares? Good riddance."

Peeta picked up my hand to tug on my fingers. He got one of my knuckles to crack, which he knew I hated. "I can't believe he fell off the stage," he wrinkled his nose to stop his smile, but it came out anyways.

I laughed, "Plop! Flat on his face." I shook my head. We laughed together. Maybe we were both still a bit crazed by the week we'd had. It wasn't even all that funny to begin with.

Effie huffed. "How odd of you to find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!" Distantly, probably from the next room, we could hear Haymitch retching his guts out.

Effie nodded with a bitter smile. "So laugh away!"

I lay back on the bed as the compartment door slid closed with a gentle 'click' behind Peeta. Our eyes met.

"Well," he shrugged. "What do we do?"

"I'm the action woman." I deflected, watching him come sit at my side. "You're the planner. So plan."

"We both know how this works, so, we need to focus on getting you back home." He sounded determined. "We need to get Haymitch's help."

"I can't talk about this," I looked away to stare at the ceiling. "I'm not—you can't ask me to agree to this."

"Prim wants you home—" he began.

"No, Prim wants us both home." My eyes landed back on his. "Which would be possible if you hadn't decided to throw your lot in with mine."

He looked down at his hand which lay splayed out on the bed between us. "There's no use arguing about something we can't change." He looked at me again. "Plus, I don't regret it anyways."

I looked away. "Of course not, why should you care about your own well-being? Silly me."

"Katniss—" he said.

"No, stop, I'm not arguing about this." I gave him a hard look. "You're always doing crazy things without any thought about how it'll affect you and I'm tired of it. I'm still mad at you about this one."

"I'm not always doing stuff like this."

"Peeta, you almost got yourself killed by a Peacekeeper in your own house yesterday." He looked guilty at that. "You're always getting yourself in the line of fire with your mother over me."

"She hasn't done that in a while…"

"Don't lie," I glared at him. "I always know. I hate it when you lie to me."

He was quiet.

"And now this, the craziest thing you've ever done for me. You cannot ask me to be okay with you dying for me. I will never be okay with that." We stared at each other. "So stop, okay?"

"Fine. Then what are we even doing?" He challenged. "Do we just give up? One of us has to die if one of us is coming home. Unless your plan is to just die together, which by the way, is worse."

I sighed. "I don't know, okay? Hopefully, someone will just take me out and you can make it back alright. I don't have a plan."

"If someone kills me, will you be okay coming back on your own?" His voice was hard as stone, I frowned. "See? I knew it. I guess we're both dead."

I rolled over.

"Oh, wow, really?"

I didn't say anything else.

Peeta waited for a few minutes, impatient. I could feel his frustration in the air. I determinately stayed where I was. He sighed, giving up.

"Katniss," he said very softly and touched my arm. "I'm sorry."

I rolled back over and met his eyes. He was still frustrated but also visibly sad. I uncrossed my arms to open them for him, and he dropped right into them.

"How about this," I said over Peeta's shoulder. "We try our best but without a plan. Whatever happens, happens."

Peeta shifted slightly so he wasn't totally crushing me but remained in my embrace. "What if we're the last two?"

"That isn't going to happen." I declared. "We'll just do our best. District One is probably going to win again anyway."

"You don't actually believe that," he said, moving his head on my shoulder, I briefly glanced at him. He was smiling.

"Oh, no, I really do." I insisted.

"Okay, that's fine. I guess we're both going to do our best for the other to win but we're not going to actually talk about it?" He chuckled when I didn't deny it. "Fine. But we agree that we need Haymitch's help, right?"

"Obviously," I mumbled, thinking about the useless drunk. "That's on you."

Peeta sighed. "I figured." He pushed himself up onto his forearms and raised a brow at me. "Do you wanna go to bed?"

I looked over at our window. It was dark. "Okay, I guess."

Turns out it's hard to fall asleep when you're being shipped directly toward a televised death match. Who knew? I lay on my back, staring at nothing but darkness with Peeta to my right. He was on his stomach, staring at the side of my face.

"You should go to sleep," he murmured, running his fingers through the ends of my hair. "You're going to need your strength tomorrow."

"Hm, and you won't?" I raised my eyebrows, but he didn't take the bait. "I can't shut off my brain."

"Yeah, me neither." He shifted on the bed; I didn't turn to look but I could hear sheets moving. Next thing I knew he was laying closer to my side. "I have to tell you something."

"Is it about the thing we're not talking about?" He didn't answer. "Then I don't want to hear it."

"Well, I'm going to tell you anyways." He said it cheekily and I barked a laugh. "If you die and I survive—"

"Peeta, no."

"Please, just let me finish." He paused and gave me a moment to accept it. I did, reluctantly. "If you die and I don't, there's no life left for me in District Twelve. You're my whole life."

"That isn't true—"

"Shh, let me say this." I pursed my lips. "I would never be happy again." I turned to look at him, but he pressed a finger to my lips. "It's different for you. Your family needs you. Prim, your grandmother. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard, but there are other parts to your life that would make it worth living."

"They're your family too," I whispered. I reached out to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. "Our family. They need you too."

"They need you much more," his voice was gentle. He brushed a few strands of hair away from my face. "No one really needs me."

There was no self-pity, just honesty in his voice. And it was true. His brothers would move on, and his friends too. Even Prim and Grandmother would get on, after the initial sadness. It really shouldn't have surprised me, but the realization was sudden all the same. Only one person would be damaged completely beyond repair if Peeta died, me.

"I do," I whispered. "I need you."

He looked upset and took a deep breath as if to continue, but we'd already had this argument so many times, we were merely going in circles. I cupped his face and captured his lips in a kiss, silencing him. He tried to get away, to keep the argument going, once, maybe twice, but he gave up, faced as he was by my insistence.

Our relationship had been so short, too short. We hadn't shared enough kisses, we never could, not even with an entire lifetime to spare. There hadn't been enough time, there never could be enough time. As I pulled him closer to me, I started to feel that thing again, the one that had spread warmth all over me when he'd last kissed me in our bed. That kiss, which left me dazed and breathless, filled my belly with liquid gold and left me wanting so much more.

"Katniss," he murmured against my lips, but I shushed him.

"Please," I met his eyes, our foreheads pressed together. "I need to be with my husband."

We didn't have much use for talking, after that.

The next morning, I dressed in a simple shirt and pants I found in the closet. They were much nicer than anything I'd ever owned before, softer. I made sure to put on Madge's Mockingjay pin too. Peeta, after taking a look through the closet with me, got redressed in yesterday's clothes and left for the other room. All the menswear was in there.

I arrived at the dining compartment before him and took the same seat as yesterday. Haymitch and Effie were already there. Effie was stirring a brown liquid in her mug. The smell was distinct, something I vaguely recognized. Coffee. My mother had loved coffee, but we almost never could afford it. Dad sometimes found a way to get her some, as a gift. I pushed away those memories.

We didn't speak and that was fine by me. I snapped up a roll and started slathering it in butter. A moment later an attendant placed a plate in front of me. It was absolutely heaping with eggs, ham, and slivers of fried potato. I caught his eye and smiled my thanks.

"Well, that was pretty loud last night," Haymitch smirked at my horrified expression. "Can't say I've ever heard that on this train before."

"Oh god," I moaned.

"Ha! We don't need an encore," Haymitch threw his head back and cackled. Effie, while muttering obscenities under her breath, took a long gulp from her coffee.

The compartment door slid open and in came Peeta, looking handsome in a blue-and-white plaid shirt. He raised his eyebrows at me when Haymitch started laughing harder upon his entrance. I slunk down low in my chair.

"Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch said, waving him over. He took a seat at my side. Haymitch kept smirking at us as he pulled a flask out of his jacket's interior pocket. He leaned back with a small crystal glass filled with brown liquor and stared at us.

"You're supposed to give us advice," Peeta rested against the back of his chair and considered Haymitch in return. "Got anything?"

"How about this? Stay alive." Haymitch returned, then burst out laughing. I openly scoffed.

"That's very funny," I sat up straighter and glared. "Only not to us."

There was a brief pause where we all stared at each other with a certain tension. Effie continued moving her breakfast with her fork, watching us curiously from the sidelines.

"So married, huh?" Haymitch tilted his glass to the side, watching the amber liquid within. "There are easier ways of getting your dick wet, you know."

I didn't even have time enough time to frown at that, Peeta reacted so quickly. In a flash he punched Haymitch in the face, knocking the older man backward. Effie screamed and I jumped to my feet. Haymitch, despite the years of self-inflicted abuse, jumped right back up as well and punched Peeta square in the jaw with the hand still holding his glass, knocking him down onto the ground. My nostrils flared as a red-hot rage overtook me, especially after the milli-second it took me to realize Peeta was bleeding. Immediately, I picked up a serrated dinner knife and drove it up and against Haymitch's throat, holding it still before I killed him.

"Back off, now." I barked, glaring hard at him. "Don't test me. Now!"

Haymitch smirked. His eyes danced from Peeta to me and back again. He raised both hands in surrender. His right hand was covered in blood, his own and Peeta's. I could see some broken glass buried in his skin.

"My, my." His eyes landed on me as he considered me with interest. "Did I get a couple of fighters this year?"

I pulled the knife back. Haymitch chuckled and picked up a cloth napkin from the table. I'd cut his throat slightly. I turned my attention back to Peeta, but he walked past me, scooping some ice out of a bowl and creating a cold compress with a napkin of his own.

"Go stand over there," Haymitch said, motioning towards the center of the room. "Let me have a look at you."

Peeta and I complied, although unhappily. We watched him as he circled us, poking and prodding us as if we were animals up for auction. Peeta slapped Haymitch's hand away from me when he poked me in the ribs.

"Hands to yourself," he mumbled but Haymitch moved on to the bruise on my face.

"Quite the shiner," he said, grabbing my chin to tilt me to the side. "Get into a lot of fights at home?"

I shook him off. "No. Peacekeepers."

"A troublemaker then," He took a step back and considered us. "Well, you don't appear to be starving, you've got some fight, and once your prep teams get a hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." He rubbed his chin. "Alright, let's do this."

"You'll mentor us?" Peeta asked.

"That's what I said, didn't I?" Haymitch replied. He waved a hand toward Peeta's face. "Take care of that. We don't need it getting infected."

He turned away and I glared after him. Turning to Peeta, I raised my hand towards his face, gently pushing his hand and the ice away. My fingers touched the wound and he flinched.

"I'm sorry, but I have to check and see if you have glass in there." My voice was filled with so much tenderness that Haymitch laughed from across the room. I took a moment to glare at him, but he wasn't looking our way, he was serving himself another drink. "Come on, let's sit down, okay?"

I guided Peeta toward one of the couches on the other side of the room. Catching the eye of one of the many attendants, I asked if we could have a medical kit. He nodded and left the room.

"Mm," I hummed as I cradled Peeta's face. The wound looked bad; he might need a few stitches. "Oh, sweetheart."

"You know, only one of you can make it out." My shoulders tensed at Haymitch's words. "Who's it gonna be?"

"That's none of your fucking business," I snapped at him but smiled up at the attendant who had returned with a medical kit. I opened it and was relieved to find everything I needed and more. "This might sting a bit," I said to my husband.

Peeta squeezed his eyes shut as I started picking out glass from his face with a pair of medical tweezers, dropping the bloodied shards on an unrolled piece of gauze on my lap. I tried to work as quickly as possible, rubbing a soothing pattern into his skin with the thumb of the hand I was using to stabilize his face. "I'm almost done," I said with what I hoped was encouragement.

When I was confident there wasn't any more glass to remove, I rifled through the kit until I found a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad. "I have to clean it now," I said as a warning. Peeta nodded.

"You're medically trained?" Haymitch said, but it wasn't really a question. He came over to sit on the couch to our right, drink in hand. "Any other skills between the two of you?"

I glanced up at him. His mocking tone had been changed for neutrality. I returned my focus to Peeta's face.

"Katniss is a hunter. The very best." Peeta said, opening his eyes. "She can take down anything, big, small, whatever, with her bow. Get's them in the eye every time." I looked down at the kit. I wasn't all that experienced with closing facial wounds, but maybe I could just use the butterfly bandages?

"That's good. We can work with that." Haymitch nodded. I pulled out the bandages. "How about you? What can you do?"

"Not much," Peeta said honestly. "I've worked in a bakery my entire life. You don't learn how to kill in there."

I scoffed but continued working on his face. "Don't sell yourself short." I looked over at Haymitch. "Peeta is strong. A great fighter. He just won the wrestling tournament this week by throwing a guy over his back. He lifts hundreds of pounds in bags of flour almost every day." My eyes returned to Peeta's wound. "The only people who've ever beat him in a fight are his own brothers."

"Very good," Haymitch was saying but Peeta started talking over him.

"She's also a great tracker and trapper. Can climb anything. Oh, and she can swim." I leaned back from him to glare, and he shrugged in return. "She's got the highest shot at survival between us."

"No, don't—" I cut myself off and turned to face Haymitch myself. "Peeta's the smartest person I've ever met. Perfect liar, and a great manipulator. He knows how to play people. He can beat this game." I closed the medical kit. "He doesn't need a bow and arrows; he can think his way out."

"Well, that's just not how this works," Peeta sounded annoyed. "Listen, she's the best bet."

"Will you shut up—" I was saying.

"Okay, that's enough." Haymitch interrupted. "I'm the one that makes that decision. Now let's talk strategy." He put down his drink on the coffee table. He hadn't even taken a sip. "How are we playing this?"

"Playing what?" I asked. Peeta put his hand on my leg.

"He means our relationship," he clarified. "Everyone knows we're married."

Oh, right. I thought about that. What was there to play? We were sixteen and a couple, what else was there to say?

"I'm assuming you want to be a team?" Haymitch didn't wait for verbal confirmation. I frowned, offended. "Okay, so what's the story? Tragic young love? Childhood sweethearts? Fast recent and overwhelming? Happy to be together, in it to win?"

"What?" I looked at him. "Who cares?"

"I'm sure you remember this is a T.V. show, sweetheart." Haymitch sneered. "You need an interesting storyline."

"Tragedy will make us interesting," Peeta interjected before I yelled at Haymitch. "I think, 'Oh, we're so in love, please help us,' will keep the audience engaged. We could probably just use our actual backstory." Peeta leaned back against the couch. "Childhood friends, boy and girl next door. That's a classic."

I didn't like the way they were talking. It felt… icky. "I don't want to pimp out our life story, Peeta."

Peeta turned to say something to me, his facial expression was very gentle when Haymitch interrupted.

"Well, you have to, sweetheart. They're already bringing you here to torture you to death on national television, what did you expect?" Haymitch picked up his drink and downed it in one go. "Girl and boy next door is perfect. Innocent and fluffy."

Peeta turned back to Haymitch. "Do we mention that this was a marriage contract?"

Haymitch considered that and shook his head. "No." he put his glass back on the coffee table. "Make them believe that it's all a fairy-tale romance. Arranged marriage just makes it sound like an obligation."

"And they're going to believe that?" I crossed my arms. How stupid were people in the Capitol?

"Oh, just you wait." Haymitch chuckled and stood. "Look, we're almost there."

We turned towards the rectangular windows and gasped. We had just exited a long dark tunnel, and from our vantage point we could see some of the large mountains that protectively surrounded the Capitol, the water held in by the dam, and the glittering glass city within.

"It's huge," Peeta said as he stood. He took a step towards the windows. "Katniss, come look."

I took his hand and let him tug me towards the window. My stomach tightened itself into anxious knots as I watched the city grow in front of my eyes. It was huge. Bigger than I had expected.

"They must have so many people here," Peeta whispered as he considered the tall buildings. "How many floors do you think are in that one?"

He pointed towards a large building, and I shook my head. What was the point? "It's horrible."

"Mhmm," Peeta agreed, pulling me closer to his side.

The train sped into the city, passing by populated streets. We were moving slower so I could see some of the Capitol citizens as they realized the tribute train was whizzing by. A lot of them stopped to look on in excitement, pulling friends and pets to a stop with them. They were all dressed obnoxiously, wearing the most garish color combinations I'd ever seen.

As the train started to slow some more, we encountered a thick mass of people with flashing cameras. Peeta began to wave with an ungenuine (to my observation) smile. He nudged me.

"Come on, wave. This might get us sponsors." He spoke with his teeth held shut. I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and started to wave as well although holding a smile was harder for me. I'm sure I appeared to be grimacing or constipated.

"Wonderful, we're ahead of schedule!" Effie chirped to our right. I glanced in her direction. "Come, come children, and welcome to the Capitol!"

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