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Azrael looked down at the apron Dahlia had just handed him upon his return to her kitchen after getting settled in the bedroom that Dahlia said was his for his stay with her in District One. “You know…” He shook his head and chuckled “If you weren’t my best friend I wouldn’t wear this.” Azrael slip it over his head before turning around “Tie me up?” He teased.



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At the funeral, Sienna speaks a few words. Tentative, uncertain, she doesn’t know what she could possibly say that would do Dahlia justice. “I wish I had had more time,” she says, and cringes as it feels like a cliche, but it’s the truth. “And… I’ll miss you. You were the most special person I’ve ever known.”

When she gets home, though, she writes her a letter.


I want to thank you for the time you gave me. All of the moments we shared, all of the smiles and tears, everything with you was always more special than it was with everyone else. I’ll forever mourn the future we could have had together, the things we could have done. The love we could have grown into, the ways we could have grown together.

It makes me sad to have missed it. I miss YOU. I know my words at the funeral were incomplete, cliche, not enough. I could never think of enough words to tell you how much I care. How much I’ll always care.

I’ll try to remember your spirit every day. How you encouraged me to be myself. How you helped me to forgive myself. Life would have been better with you in it.

With love,


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Dahlia was coming to visit Five around the holidays so they could celebrate together. She was glad to see her and was looking forward to it, of course, but she was also worried. She didn’t want to tell Dahlia about her diagnosis because she knew that she’d be worried, would try to get her to go for treatment in the Capitol right away, and she just… didn’t know if she wanted to do that. She needed to think, needed to figure it out, and yet she had no idea what was right.

She needed more time. So when Dahlia came she was trying to keep it to herself as much as possible, to not let on how tired she was, how much she wanted to curl up with Dahlia beneath a blanket and never move again. She was so glad to see her, and her presence in Sienna’s house made everything so much brighter, but it didn’t make her feel much better.

They were on the couch, Sienna trying not to fall asleep, when Norman, the fat black cat who thought he owned the whole house (and kind of did) jumped directly onto her lap, startling her, and hissed at Dahlia. “Possessive,” she muttered, smiling, stroking his head. “Play nice, please.”



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I still don’t even get why you’re so nice to me, but I really, really appreciate it. Thanks for taking me in when I’m freaking out and offering me knives. Not a lot of people would do both of those things in a nice way. Wish I’d gotten the chance to repay you for it.

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You always had a good night out for me when I needed it most or a listening ear when I pretended I didn’t. There’s a lot to say about you, Dahlia Ambervale, but most of all you were a good woman, truly. Wish we had the chance to bring more tributes home together, we made a good team.

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