Katniss tugs her shirt down over her back, rolling over and not caring if she gets salve that hasn't quite dried on her clothes. The thick part of her braid digs into her shoulder and she tugs it out from underneath her, looking up at him. "Gale," she exhales, eyes flickering back to the sky and then back to him. "You should stop kissing me."

Because I don't know anything anymore, Katniss adds silently, a recurring theme that simply won't go away. Indecision, with each pathway leading to a different negative circumstance. What is the lesser of two evils? Since that's what it's come to be, in her mind. Her guiding star, when she finds that the line between saints and villains become too blurred to see properly.