Tiny Hand
Day light
Sophia Clare, 17

Cinnamon and dill
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My eyes open and the sense of security vanishes. I’m not home, not with my mother. I’m in a dim, chilly cave, my bare feet freezing despite the cover, the air tainted with the unmistakable smell of blood. The haggard, pale face of a boy slides into view, and after an initial jolt of alarm, I feel better.

‘Peeta.’ ~The Hunger Games, chapter 22 (via everlarkquotes)
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