Mocking Jay

pulling his cuffed hands from his face. "Peeta?" His eyes are like black pools, the pupils dilated so that the blue
irises have all but vanished. The muscles in his wrists are hard as metal.
"Leave me," he whispers. "I can't hang on."
"Yes. You can!" I tell him.
Peeta shakes his head. "I'm losing it. I'll go mad. Like them."
Like the mutts. Like a rabid beast bent on ripping my throat out. And here, finally here in this place, in these
circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has
won too much already today.
It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the
mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My
hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. "Don't let him take you from me."
Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. "No. I don't want to..."
I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me."
His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy.
"Always," he murmurs.
I help Peeta up and address Pollux. "How far to the street?" He indicates it's just above us. I climb the last
ladder and push open the lid to someone's utility room. I'm rising to my feet when a woman throws open the door.
She wears a bright turquoise silk robe embroidered with exotic birds. Her magenta hair's fluffed up like a cloud
and decorated with gilded butterflies. Grease from the half-eaten sausage she's holding smears her lipstick. The
expression on her face says she recognizes me. She opens her mouth to call for help.
Without hesitation, I shoot her through the heart.