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Send me a ϟ … I will generate a number 1-35 to see what my muse will say to yours. Mix of angst, fluff, flirty, funny, etc.
27. Kill Me
Peeta only had to look him straight in the eye—keep his composure. It did not matter anymore, they got the use out of him. He was able to do so well for so long. What use of living did he have now? None.
"Kill me."
Those two words calmly came from his lips, his eyes looking up to the other. His tongue swiping over his lips as he loosened his grip on the knife he had held in his pocket of the tribute gear jacket. He was simply giving up—-there was no chance of winning, he had figured that out and he only hoped Katniss could win this but he—he did not want to play this game anymore.








