It was weird. Kate had already been mentally preparing herself to do this exact same thing for him, some time in the near future, for Katniss. To be the strong one, the one at a safe distance from the tragedy, murmuring and whispering and soothing.

And instead here she was, the weak one, the inconsolable. It really fucking sucked and she wanted to stop but she couldn't.

So his shirt was getting soaked. Again.