“people like us don’t get happy endings.” enobaria ( @oddsfavorcd )
i'm not like you. it's a close thing, but i manage to bite back the words. at least with my normal, flat teeth i don't hurt my tongue doing it. besides - aren't i? like her? my eyes fall to the patchy skin on the back of my hand, too pink and too strange and too new. we're both mutts that snow made. i see that now. "i guess not." this sitting room is opulent and quiet and i wish, more than anything, that someone else would come through the door and not leave me here alone with enobaria; peeta, fuming about me saying yes, or haymitch with the question that had been in his eyes around that table on his lips instead. "no one does." not even the people who deserve it. my eyes water at the thought of prim, of her turning, of the sudden hot burning - i swallow a little too hard. "we're making sure of that."
