I have kept track of the boy with the bread. - Suzanne Collins

"We could do it, you know."
"What?"
"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it."

Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?” I say.

“I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says.

“You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.

“It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.

So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh? says Caesar encouragingly. I don't think it's going to work out. Winning...won't help in my case, says Peeta. Why ever not? says Caesar, mystified. Peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. Because...because...she came here with me.