It was true. Prim didn't understand Gale's reasons or motivation for volunteering, and she had never thought of herself as special, or important enough that someone else would want to lay down their life for her. The year before, she hadn't understood Katniss's reasoning either, but at least that had made a little more sense. Gale had been so close to being safe, to leaving the Games behind in the past and moving on with his life and instead he had chose to come to a place he knew he would never leave. Maybe Prim was a little more selfish than everyone else and while that did nothing to help the guilt that had been hanging over her, logic eased the pain. After all, so many years had gone by without a volunteer in 12, so the young blonde couldn't help but wonder; why now? Why for her?

“They won't,” Prim assured Gale before she squeezed his hand again. The Capitol wouldn't be taking her away, some other tribute would, but Prim didn't have the heart or desire to ruin the moment when Gale was being so honest. Before she had assumed that Gale had volunteered to help Katniss, but now, she wasn't sure that her sister had much to do with the decision. 

Explaining her feelings was difficult, but Prim welcomed the new distraction that would come from exploring the rest of the suite. There were so many different things to see on the top floor, and Prim thought it would be a shame not to take it all in when she would never have another opportunity like this. If she was going to die in just a few weeks time, the blonde thought her last days might as well be fun. It was a twisted way of thinking, but it was infinitely easier than dwelling on the things she couldn't change. Instead, she set off with Gale, hand in hand as they discovered many other rooms, a few fountains, and potted plants.

The tension in the living room had finally dissipated and Haymitch was fully relaxed. He remembered the year before when he had first met Katniss and Peeta, and how she had given him such a hard time about drinking and not helping them as much as he could have. He felt guilty about that, and he knew that he could have prepared both tributes more, but the truth was that Haymitch had stopped trying long before the 74th Reaping. Katniss made him want to be different, to try again and not be so complacent with the lives that were being lost year after year. He thought he would have more time, though, more years to mentor but Snow had different plans. There had been a part of him that knew, of course, that once Katniss refused to play by their rules that everything would change. It was just hard to accept.

As Katniss reached out, the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair brought Haymitch back to reality. He usually wasn't comfortable with such unsolicited breeches of personal space, but he didn't mind so much when it was her. He watched her, trying to figure out what was going on in her hair, and the somber look in her eyes told him that something had changed. They weren't joking about his ruined shirt anymore, and it was obvious that Katniss was stuck on something. That kind of inward retreating was dangerous anywhere, but if it kept happening, she was sure to be caught in the arena. 

“Hey,” he said, giving Katniss a nudge on the thigh, “bring it back, sweetheart.” If she wanted to talk, he would listen, but he wasn't going to let her get caught up in the things she could neither change nor predict.

When he spoke again, her voice sounded tired and Haymitch frowned at her words. She was doubting herself and her ability to carry on when she knew that she was going to be surrounded by death. This was what Snow wanted, he wanted to break her but Haymitch wasn't going to let that happen. “You can,” he disagreed. “You can because you have to or else all of this is for nothing.” It may not have been comforting, or even what she wanted to hear, but Haymitch wasn't in the business of sugarcoating things. If he hadn't thought that Katniss could handle it, he wouldn't have stuck by her, he wouldn't have bothered to volunteer for Peeta, or trained with her on those bitterly cold nights not long ago. 

They could have talked more, maybe even come up with a plan to get everyone out, but Effie had come into the room to call them for dinner. This conversation would have to be revisited, but for now, Haymitch could deal with the escort and the miffed look on her face. “Yeah,” he scoffed, “got my make up all over my shirt.”

Effie frowned as Katniss left the room in search of Prim and Gale. “That's expensive fabric,” she told the former mentor with a huff.

Haymitch could only shrug in response as he and Effie went to join Peeta at the table in the dining room.

The penthouse was much larger than Prim had originally thought, but she and Gale had found all sorts of new and interesting things. There was a hot tub surrounded by many off-putting paintings, which Prim thought defeated the purpose of relaxing when such disturbing art was staring back at someone. She and Gale had moved onto the last painting in the room after interpreting a few others to be the aftermath of a bomb, a house fire, and a self-portrait of a crying face. The Capitol really knew how to live it up.

“Maybe they're escaping,” Prim suggested, tilting her head thoughtfully. She decided that she liked that painting the best, but highly doubted she would be coming back this room in particular.

When Katniss found them and announced that dinner was ready, Prim was happy to follow along. This was the first time that she had any kind of appetite since the day before. “We're looking out for you too,” she reminded Katniss and stayed by her side as the three of them headed for the dining room. When they arrived, Haymitch, Peeta and Effie were already seated and Prim took the empty spot next to Gale where she would be across from Katniss. The food that was laid out on the table looked amazing, and there was a very tempting dessert tray set off to the side.

“This looks really good,” she said, which seemed to please Effie greatly.

“Are you all excited to train tomorrow?” the escort asked, looking around to the four tributes. 

Haymitch scoffed, obviously thinking the question was ridiculous. “Are you kidding? I know your brain is being choked off by that ugly wig, but try and think about that for a second.” 

Prim wasn't excited to train, afraid that it would make the games that much more real but she was also worried that she was going to be terrible at everything. Instead of vocalizing that, she listened to Haymitch and Effie snap at each other while eating from a bowl full of lamb stew. Katniss had talked about the dish when she had come home, and Prim had always wanted to try it. 

Once Haymitch was done arguing with Effie, he cut into a thick piece of steak. “You should be thinking skills, ways to impress the Gamemakers and one weakness to really improve on,” he said, naturally falling back into that mentor state of mind. He didn't mean to outshine Peeta, but this had been his job for the last twenty-five years and giving advice was a hard habit to break. “You,” he said to Gale, “what do you do?” Katniss was covered with her archery, but Gale and Prim needed to do something besides stand there and look pretty.