I'd been pretending I was asleep for minutes now, but it felt like hours. I am curled against Gale's side with my head lying on his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart pounding as he sleeps. The truth is, I want to take in every minute and every detail of this moment. I don't want to drift back into sleep. I want to remember what this feels like before it's all ripped away from me for good. It's still dark outside and I'd only been sleeping for three hours. The clock is indicating twelve thirty. It is the official start of the day that will put my life in danger until someone finally ends it.

Sometime in the three short hours I slept, I'd slung my right leg over Gale's waist and my arms had managed to circle around his neck. I can feel his strong arms tighten against me and I can't help the moan that escapes from the back of my throat. I lift my head from his chest and see that his eyes are wide open. As if he feels me staring at him, he drops his head and meets my gaze. I bite my lower lip, taking in every inch of his remarkable beauty.

"How long have you been awake?" he whispers.

"Ten minute at least," I reply. "You?"

"Maybe five, what time is it?"

I lift my head, peaking over him to check.

"Twelve forty."

Our eyes meet again as my head plops down on the plush bed again. I take in a long deep breath of air and the smell of strawberries rises into my nose. For a moment I think it's me, but I remember that I'd showered earlier on last night and used the apple and cinnamon scent. I realize he must've used the wrong one. When there's one million buttons in that shower, who knows which one to press?

"You smell like strawberries," I remark. He lets out light, hollow laugh.

"Those showers," he mumbles. "I didn't think it was possible to make anything that complicated."

"I know, but you smell good," I reassure him as I press my nose against his chest. And then it hits me. It's faint, but there, and then I can't smell it again.

Beyond the strawberry Capitol scent he has accidentally covered himself in, I can smell Gale. He smells like apples, but not the faux Capitol kind, it's natural and I can feel the desire to have him closer rising. Without really thinking, I begin to move my nose, taking in deep breaths of air just to briefly smell that permanent apple and alder smoke scent. When I reach skin and take a deep breath, I can smell oranges. It is him. The way he smells. And also, the way home smells.

I entangle my hands in his hair and pull him so close to me, wrapping both my legs around his waist. I am giving up the fight to resist the urge of pulling him nearer, entwining him with me. So I pull him closer and closer until I'm absolutely sure no one will be able to pull us apart. He must feel the same because he presses against me and suddenly, we are pulling each other closer even when we are as close as we can be until we settle, relaxing in each other's arms while continuing to hold on for dear life.

"This isn't enough time. Six hours isn't enough," I exclaim with a defeated tone. I know there is nothing I can do. One of us will die.

"No time could've ever been," he replies with a hoarse voice. And it's enough to push me right over the edge as tears spill down my cheeks without warning followed my one million sobs.

"I don't want us to die," I say in between my crying and the desperate gasps of air that I'm struggling to inhale with it all.

"Catnip, shhh. I know, I know, I-"

With that, his voice cracks as well and we both cry in each other's arms. It isn't often I see him this weak, so his pain must be unbearable. We sob together and whine, and wince like pained animals. We must've been crying for thirty minutes straight until he finally calms down and sits up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed, pulling me in his lap. He rocks me until I'm better too and we are both sitting still and silent. My lips are cracked and my throat feels like cotton. Deep down it feels clogged, like I can't breathe. Maybe that's where all my saliva disappeared to. I've cried so much, too much. I don't think I'll have enough tears left to ever do it again. Even if I do survive in the unfavorable circumstances we are put in today.

"This is so unfair!" I complain, sniffling for the last time as my pain turns into complete rage fueled by the Capitol's cruelty.

"Catnip . . ."

All of the sudden, I've been shifted to where I'm lying on my back in the bed, Gale hovering over me. I hold my breath, my cheeks becoming a bright red.

"Gale . . ." I reply, trying to stay cool by mocking his tone. His expression stays still. He's focused, his eyebrows narrowing and his grey eyes squinting a bit to study my reaction of this position I suppose. My heart is thumping inside of my chest when he begins to lean forward.

I place my finger over his lips, stopping him.

"I still don't think it's a good idea," I tell him. Our eyes are boring into each other's carelessly. I still know better than to let him kiss me right now. Even if I'm at my highest point of need, this is not the comfort I'm seeking. I just want him to hold me, talk to me, and be my dream catcher. I don't need his lips right now, but it's obvious he thinks differently.

I drop our gaze and he flops back down on the bed. I turn on my other side, my back facing him.

"Sorry," he whispers. "I know Katniss. I know, you're right."

I hear him let out a deep sigh and after a while, I slowly turn my head. I catch a tear rolling down his cheek and when he sees where my eyes are looking, he wipes it away.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. He nods his head and solemnly replies,

"I don't want to be a part of those games. I wasn't even gonna watch them Katniss and I cringe at the thought of playing them!"

I think about this for a moment. It's never been done before and it'd be a real show. I imagine how defying it would be to have all the tributes sit on they're metal plate when the gong sounds. I shake the thought from my mind, knowing that's in noway possible. No one would agree.

"That's not gonna happen," I reply flatly. I can just barely see him roll his eyes considering the only light we have is the faint one of the moon shining through the window.

"Says who?!" he asks me defensively. I can see his features darken more than what they already have.

"Says the tributes! The Capitol! They aren't gonna-"

"I'm not asking the tributes, Katniss!" he replies angrily.

"You were thinking it though," I scowl. Then, I let the room sit in silence for a while, letting us both cool down. By the way he's speaking, he's put fuel to my fire and there's one million things I could say, but I keep my mouth shut and let him be the next to speak.

"I'm talking about me . . . just me," he mumbles, his voice has softened now and I let out a small sigh of relief until I process what he's said.

"That won't do anything," I say sensibly. "The tributes will just kill you, they'll all laugh at you in the Capitol."

"I don't care if they kill me. I just want the president and all who runs this sick event to see that we are people. We aren't just a piece in their games."

"Do what you want Gale. I'm not playing this for me, or for them though. I'm playing this for my family, my sister. I thought you'd do the same."

I turn toward him and see that he's already staring at me, a bold expression spread across his face. He stands up, his back facing me when he says,

"Someone's got to be brave. Someone has to show the people hope because if it doesn't happen, then the whole world will end up dead sooner or later."

I watch his silhouette cross the large room before he opens the door. I suppose he's tired of disagreeing with me and I'm glad because I am too. But that doesn't stop me from saying one last thing to change his mind. I can't let him purposefully execute himself on television. Especially if there's a chance that the Capitol sees it as defiance. If that happens, he won't be the only one dead.

"Think about your family Gale," I remind him.

He pauses for a moment and glances over his shoulder. The moon hits him perfectly, revealing his seam grey eyes that appear to be stunning on him. Buried deeply in those eyes is something so familiar, but its never been this bright. A spark. It shows hope, rebellion, and defiance. It's right then that I know my last comment has unfortunately made no effect on his decision.