Katniss isn't usually accustomed to a lot of physical affection. She was not rocked to sleep any more than Jason had. Maybe earlier in life, before her father had died, but after that, good times were hard to come by. This was a pattern she had long accepted, and had therefore managed to make sure that she'd never have to rely on anyone else. Always alone, always fiercely independent.

But now, she curls up against Jason without complaint, odd for someone who had been attacked so many times. Katniss doesn't allow herself to think about anything else, fingers tightening in the cloth of his shirt. The tears have more or less slowed, her eyes stinging and red, swollen.

"Promise," Katniss demands, swiping at her face. "I'm stalling. Because -- Peeta... it's weird and stupid and I can't..." Katniss' brain is mush. She takes a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. "I love you, okay?"