How I Imagined The Hunger Games [Part 1/?] - Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his
words. This is probably overdue anyway since he’s
right, we are supposed to be madly in love. It’s the
first time I’ve ever kissed a boy, which should make
some sort of impression I guess, but all I can register
is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever. I
break away and pull the edge of the sleeping bag up
Someday I’ll explain it to you, why they came, why they won’t ever go away. But I’ll tell you how I survive it. I make a list in my head, of all the good things I’ve seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It’s like a game. I do it over and over. Gets a little tedious after all these years, but… there are much worse games to play.