"Peeta, how come I never know when you´re having a nightmare?" I say.

"I don´t know. I don´t think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralysed with terror," he says.

"You should wake me," I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.

"It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you," he says. "I'm OK once I realize you're here."

The Hunger Games