Mockingjay - Pg 271

 At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. "Your favorite color... It's green?"

 "That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange."

 "Orange?" He seems unconvinced.

 "Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once."

 "Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you."

 But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces."

 Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.