The Quote Museum of Epic Awesome

I never claimed to be an innocent.

For the boy lying across from me, I could pretend to be. I can feel the way sadness and madness clings to him in such a way to grip him too tightly to breath. I can feel that sadness even now as he sleeps. The lines of worry are gone from a face that usually appears so smooth, but it doesn't change the fact that for a few seconds in a lifetime he needs me. If only for this, I'm needed. I have a place to be, a song to sing if I can wake up just one more morning like this, to another face that sings a different song. Maybe one day soon it'll backfire on me, and I'll wake up to darkness and an empty bed, but today I can be happy. Happy to memorize a sleeping face a few centimeters from mine, happy to smile becasue I want to, not because I can.

"I certainly hope that they have made enough food and drink. It seems some of my guests are, shall I say piggish." I whisper playfuly and point toward a rather fat Capitol Official as an example.

All the anger and feelings converge at once on me, hitting me from all sides and encasing me in something so defining and sharp that for a moment everything else looks fuzzy and I want to hit him, to punish him. I'm so angry, so, so hurt that I want to hurt him like he hurt me for one intense moment. But then. His smell hits me like a wave, the smoky, crisp autumn smell. Like coffee and wool sweaters, and then my hands tighten and I'm clenching two handfuls of his shirt, and my vision is blurring and tears are swimming, and oh god I'm crying, and I want to climb inside of him and live inside his heat. I've been so cold without him. It hurt so much to be away for so long, worrying about him, wondering about him, thinking about him. I've felt entirely wrong. Angry tears well up from somewhere below my heart, and begin to fall down my cheeks. They get his shirt wet and I don't have the energy to be embarrassed because all I ever really wanted was him. I don't know if I care if he loves me or not.

[...] I wanted to tell him about what his snores sounded like when he would finally sleep, and how I always tried to stay up longer than him but never could because his heartbeat was the thing that lulled me to sleep. I wanted to tell him about how I couldn't sleep without it.