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

ing me alone. In the gloom, I see a makeshift wall about ten
yards away and assume Peeta’s behind it.
The rumbling of the crowd is loud, so I don’t notice Haymitch
until he touches my shoulder. I spring away, startled,
still half in the arena, I guess.
“Easy, just me. Let’s have a look at you,” Haymitch says. I
hold out my arms and turn once. “Good enough.”
It’s not much of a compliment. “But what?” I say.
Haymitch’s eyes shift around my musty holding space, and
he seems to make a decision. “But nothing. How about a hug
for luck?”
Okay, that’s an odd request from Haymitch but, after all, we
are victors. Maybe a hug for luck is in order. Only, when I put
my arms around his neck, I find myself trapped in his embrace.
He begins talking, very fast, very quietly in my ear, my
hair concealing his lips.
“Listen up. You’re in trouble. Word is the Capitol’s furious
about you showing them up in the arena. The one thing they
can’t stand is being laughed at and they’re the joke of Panem,”
says Haymitch.
I feel dread coursing through me now, but I laugh as though
Haymitch is saying something completely delightful because
nothing is covering my mouth. “So, what?”
“Your only defense can be you were so madly in love you
weren’t responsible for your actions.” Haymitch pulls back
and adjusts my hairband. “Got it, sweetheart?” He could be
talking about anything now.
“Got it,” I say. “Did you tell Peeta this?”
350