Peeta shoots me a look saying -why are you taking his side? You supposed to be on my side!- but I just look away and sigh. I'm not in the mood to fight with Peeta and or Haymitch. I don't want to be in here but if I go out there I'll run into people and they will ask me about my interview and that is much worse then being in here.
"You with me sweetheart?" Haymitch asks snapping his fingers in front of my face.
"Cut it out!" I snap and push his hands away.
We are all silent. Tension lingers about. None of us know what to say.
Haymitch finally turns to Peeta and begins to speak, "If you don't want help... Fine! But don't come to me the day before and beg for help... Because your not going to get any." He stands up, pushes his chair back in, and leaves.
I sigh and look down at the floor. "You could've at least listened to what he had to say," I argue softly.
No response.
I look at Peeta.
His face is red. The color of fresh blood. His hands are folded and placed in his lap... but his knuckles are white as a ghost. He is as white as a ghost.
"Peeta?" I ask again a little louder this time.
When he doesn't answer that's when I realize what he's doing.
YOU ARE READING
Before the Epilogue
FanfictionAddition to Mockingjay *these characters and settings are not mine they belong to Suzanne Collins!*
