suzanna-kollinz-acliq-oyunlari-1-hisse-eng

“You’re not going to die,” I tell him firmly. “Says who?” His
voice is so ragged. “Says me. We’re on the same team now, you
know,” I tell him.
His eyes open. “So, I heard. Nice of you to find what’s left of
me.”
I pull out my water bottle and give him a drink. “Did Cato
cut you?” I ask.
“Left leg. Up high,” he answers.
“Let’s get you in the stream, wash you off so I can see what
kind of wounds you’ve got,” I say.
“Lean down a minute first,” he says. “Need to tell you something.”
I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle
as he whispers. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all
right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
I jerk my head back but end up laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep
it in mind.” At least, he’s still able to joke around. But when I
start to help him to the stream, all the levity disappears. It’s
only two feet away, how hard can it be? Very hard when I realize
he’s unable to move an inch on his own. He’s so weak that
the best he can do is not to resist. I try to drag him, but despite
the fact that I know he’s doing all he can to keep quiet, sharp
cries of pain escape him. The mud and plants seem to have
imprisoned him and I finally have to give a gigantic tug to
break him from their clutches. He’s still two feet from the water,
lying there, teeth gritted, tears cutting trails in the dirt on
his face.
“Look, Peeta, I’m going to roll you into the stream. It’s very
shallow here, okay?” I say.
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