He says it with all the sincerity he can fit into a single word. One arm goes around her back, holding her close, holding her up against him. His other hand goes to hers, fingers brushing gently across her knuckles where she's clutching at her hair.
"I know. I'm sorry."
He buries his face in her neck, drinking in the feel of her skin, of her pretty dress (the same one she'd worn to the Reaping) against his cheek when he turns his head, of her.
He'd hated knowing that whatever happened to him in there, she'd see it. He knows well enough how much the cameras love the most popular tributes in the arena, and he knows that aside from Katniss and Peeta, that's him. Which meant she'd always be getting updates on what the Gamemakers were doing to him.
Eventually he has to lift his head again to look at her, his brilliant green eyes shadowed with concern.
no subject
He says it with all the sincerity he can fit into a single word. One arm goes around her back, holding her close, holding her up against him. His other hand goes to hers, fingers brushing gently across her knuckles where she's clutching at her hair.
"I know. I'm sorry."
He buries his face in her neck, drinking in the feel of her skin, of her pretty dress (the same one she'd worn to the Reaping) against his cheek when he turns his head, of her.
He'd hated knowing that whatever happened to him in there, she'd see it. He knows well enough how much the cameras love the most popular tributes in the arena, and he knows that aside from Katniss and Peeta, that's him. Which meant she'd always be getting updates on what the Gamemakers were doing to him.
Eventually he has to lift his head again to look at her, his brilliant green eyes shadowed with concern.
"Are you okay?"