[Carrying her like this in the rain is somehow as dreamlike a thing as being whisked off to another world, where the Capitol is far away and even the present danger isn't always pressing. He rests his cheek against her hair as he carries her. Inevitably, the hems of his jeans are getting damp, and her hair is frizzing in the damp air. That's good. Her hair. He spent all day painting beautiful things on womens' faces, and some of them reacted like it made them more beautiful. Katniss, with her hair pulled back from her perfectly unpainted face, brown wisps of it escaping from its braid, is pure beauty.]
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