[catching fire | chapter 22]
➳ She lies on the sand, gasping like a fish out of water. Sagging skin, sickly green, her ribs as prominent as a child’s dead of starvation. Surely she could afford food, but turned to the morphling just as Haymitch turned to drink, I guess. Everything about her speaks of waste - her body, her life, the vacant look in her eyes. I hold one of her twitching hands, unclear whether it moves from the poison that affected our nerves, the shock of the attack, or withdrawal from the drug that was her sustenance. There is nothing we can do. Nothing but stay with her while she dies.
Peeta Mellark and baby boy Mellark
This is beautiful
This is so amazing <3
New UHQ Catching Fire promo pictures (click to enlarge)
Jennifer Lawrence covers Psychologies Magazine’s June 2014 issue (x)
“I know. I will. I’ll convince everyone in the districts I wasn’t defying the Capitol, that I was crazy with love,” I say.
President Snow rises and dabs his puffy lips with a napkin. “Aim higher in case you fall short.”
“What do you mean? How can I aim higher?” I ask.
“Convince me,” he says.