Ian is so fucking perfect how could i even think otherwise…?
"You’re alive," I whisper, pressing my palms against my cheeks, feeling the smile that’s so wide it must look like a grimace. Peeta’s alive. And a traitor. But at the moment, I don’t care. Not what he says, or who he says it for, only that he is still capable of speech.
(Source: hundredlifetimes, via maytheoddsbesafeandsound)