“Yes. Look, if I don’t make it back —” he begins. “Don’t talk like that. I didn’t drain all that pus for nothing,” I say. “I know. But just in case I don’t —” he tries to continue. “No, Peeta, I don’t even want to discuss it,” I say, placing my fingers on his lips to quiet him. “But I —” he insists. Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words.
