Josh desperately trying not to laugh at his own joke.
A.H.: I have a friend. Let’s call him Ramon.
Felix: You know a gun dealer named Ramon?
A.H.: He’s a gun enthusiast.
Sarah + public transport
"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.
HASHTAG: It’s going down, I’m yelling “SPENCER!”