Oh. And look at the THG countdown. Hahahahahahahahahaha. That was so last year!
i try to be nice but then people start saying words
“Don't go yet. Not until I fall asleep,” I say.
Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Almost thought you'd changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner.”
I'm foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I'd made a run for it, maybe with Gale.
“No, I'd have told you,” I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it, taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today. I want to tell him about Twill and Bonnie and the uprising and the fantasy of District 13, but it's not safe to and I can feel myself slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence. “Stay with me.”
As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don't quite catch it.
In the twilight of morphling, Peeta whispers the word and I go searching for him. It’s a gauzy, violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. I push through cloud banks, follow faint tracks, catch the scent of cinnamon, of dill. Once I feel his hand on my cheek and try to trap it, but it dissolves like mist through my fingers.
When I finally begin to surface into the sterile hospital room in 13, I remember. I was under the influence of sleep syrup. My heel had been injured after I’d climbed out on a branch over the electric fence and dropped back into 12. Peeta had put me to bed and I had asked him to stay with me as I was drifting off. He had whispered something I couldn’t quite catch. But some part of my brain had trapped his single word of reply and let it swim up through my dreams to taunt me now.“Always.”
It’s a long shot, it’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. “Don’t let him take you from me.”
Peeta’s panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. “No. I don’t want to…”
I clench his hands to the point of pain. “Stay with me.”
His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs.
What’s the big deal about Justin stating his boxing opinion? It’s not like he disrespected the Philippines. He prefers Mayweather over Pacquiao. So what? Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. But why does it feel like he’s not allowed to state his? Is it because he’s Justin Bieber? You hate him because he made fun of Manny. Some filipinos make fun of Manny as well, but do they get hated on? I am not tolerating him. He was rude and immature, and what he did was really offensive, but do we have to hate him for the things we also do? People post hateful posts towards him everytime. I see posts like, “Like, Share & Comment for Pizza. Ignore for Bieber”, and the admins doesn’t get hated on. People make fun of him everyday, and he’s not allowed to do the same? Yes, what he did was very wrong. He was rude, but aren’t you the same? You’ve been calling him names since 2009. You’ve been hating on him for 3 years for no reason at all, and you demand respect from him? You hate him, you call him names, you disrespect him, but you don’t get judged. He posts a picture and he gets judged. He gets judged everyday. He gets hated on everyday. Who are you to demand respect from him when you’re one of those people who keeps on hating him just because he sounded like a girl 3 years ago?
It’s unfair how Justin gets hated on by people who are actually doing the same thing.
We’re not saints. We make fun of people all the time and we don’t get judged. Don’t you think it’s just fair that we don’t judge him as well?