You and Peeta sit on the roof of the training center, looking down at the Capitol, it’s liveliness unnerving for such a solemn time. The bustling streets, tributes names and faces on billboards and signs, they’re celebrating yet another year of watching twenty-three innocent children die while one is crushed by the guilt that follows. You and Peeta had been making causal conversation before it’d gotten deep, his voice almost taut, his expression cheerless.