Katniss used the brief time that he was out of the room to compose herself a little bit more. Not fullly; her hands were still trembling, and she felt unsteady, even though she was sitting up. She shifted her weight to lean against the edge of the bathtub, drawing her knees up close to her chest.
By the time he came back, her insides had knotted up and her throat felt raw, but the tears had wrung her out so much that her emotions almost felt numbed. It was only a small reprieve, though. The moment that he was upset, she knew she was going to feel even worse. She wasn't really thirsty, but she accepted the glass of water and sipped at it, hoping it would help her throat.
And despite herself, despite how guilty she felt and the fact that her instincts were telling her to push him away for his own good-- because she would only get him killed-- she leaned against him, as she'd gotten in the habit of doing when they were sitting side by side. After a moment she set the glass of water aside because her trembling fingers were making the liquid move inside the glass, and leaned her head on his shoulder instead.
"I talked to Johanna," she said finally, knowing he was waiting to hear why she'd fallen apart. And as she said it, she knew, suddenly, that she wasn't going to get out of telling him. Because if she didn't, then Johanna would have to, and she hadn't even been able to say it in words to Katniss. "She told me more about how the war ends."
As she said it, all the unanswered questions suddenly popped into her head. Why had they gone on a mission like that, the victors and Gale and Boggs? Had Coin really authorized that? Or had Coin died before that, and that was why Paylor had taken charge? But Paylor had been in District 8, not 13. How had that happened? Who had killed Snow?
But Katniss had told Johanna that she was done asking questions, and this time she really intended to stick to it. Every time she learned something new, it was always awful.