kazbrekkker:

“He stepped down, avoiding any long look at her as one avoids long looks at the sun, but seeing her as one sees the sun, without looking”— Leo Tolstoy

matthewdeclermont:

“It’s my own name I’m afraid of forgetting.”

“Your true name is written here,” she said tapping his chest.

“Tattooed on your heart. You don’t let just anyone read it.”

He shifted uncomfortable. “I know.”

lushcola:

“This isn’t right,” he said, and in his voice I heard desperation, a new and unfamiliar anguish. His fingers skimmed my neck, cupped my face. I felt no surge of surety. No light stirred within me to answer his call. His grey eyes searched mine—confused, nearly frightened.

“You were meant to be like me. You were meant.. You’re nothing now.” 

He dropped his hands. I saw the realization strike him.

He was truly alone, and he always would be.

You asked me to convince you that I love Peeta. Haven’t I at least done that?