By late afternoon, I lie with my head on Peeta’s lap, making a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he’s practicing his knots. After a while, his hands go still. “What?” I ask.
“I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever,” he says.
Usually this sort of comment, the kind that hints of his undying love for me, makes me feel guilty and awful. But I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about a future I’ll never have, I just let the word slip out. “Okay.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Then you’ll allow it?”
“I’ll allow it,” I say.
His fingers go back to my hair and I doze off, but he rouses me to see the sunset. It’s a spectacular yellow and orange blaze behind the skyline of the Capitol.
“I didn’t think you’d want to miss it,” he says. “Thanks,” I say.
Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don’t want to miss any of them. We don’t go and join the others for dinner, and no one summons us. “I’m glad. I’m tired of making everyone around me so miserable,” says Peeta. “Everybody crying. Or Haymitch…” He doesn’t need to go on. We stay on the roof until bedtime and then quietly slip down to my room without encountering anyone.
Requested by thegirlwithasweettooth