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

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 around him. “You’re not going to die. I forbid it. All
right?”
“All right,” he whispers.
I step out in the cool evening air just as the parachute floats
down from the sky. My fingers quickly undo the tie, hoping for
some real medicine to treat Peeta’s leg. Instead I find a pot of
hot broth.
Haymitch couldn’t be sending me a clearer message. One
kiss equals one pot of broth. I can almost hear his snarl.
“You’re supposed to be in love, sweetheart. The boy’s dying.
Give me something I can work with!”
And he’s right. If I want to keep Peeta alive, I’ve got to give
the audience something more to care about. Star-crossed lovers
desperate to get home together. Two hearts beating as
one. Romance.
Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I
think of my parents. The way my father never failed to bring
her gifts from the woods. The way my mother’s face would
light up at the sound of his boots at the door. The way she almost
stopped living when he died.
“Peeta!” I say, trying for the special tone that my mother
used only with my father. He’s dozed off again, but I kiss him
awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d
be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He’s great at this
stuff.
I hold up the pot. “Peeta, look what Haymitch has sent you.”
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